Reflections At The Hemstead House
by jjgoodhope
Summary: Liz struggles to find herself after her world as she knows it, crumbles to the ground and she strives to become a new woman.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi Everyone, gee I've missed all of you! I hope you enjoy this next story (I'm a tad bit nervous) and it's a little different than The Guardian and Lizzies First Date. One thing hasn't change, it's a love story for Red and Lizzie! xxxx JJ**

**Opps, as always I don't own the Blacklist or anything associated with it!**

Chapter 1 Reflections At The Hemstead House

The first time she found herself seeking solitude at the Hemstead house was after a particularly heated conversation with her husband. At two in the morning she had stormed out of the house, effectively ending the discussion. In retrospect it was probably the beginning of the end of her marriage as she knew it.

In the course of her grand exit she realized she only had her car keys - wallet, money, credit cards had been left behind. Refusing to subject herself any longer to Tom's anger, since she had no intention of placating his complaints or apologizing, she drove aimlessly around the dark, damp streets of DC, until, much to her surprise, she found herself parked in front of Fredrick's house.

Turning the car off she slumped deeply into the seat and stared at the place. Old red brick and mortar with decorative iron grills on the bottom windows, shutters painted a deep, dark rich green on the second and third story windows. Thick ivy trailed up the sides of the house, the dampened leaves gleaming from the street lights as the soft rain worked to wash away the last grungy mounds of winter's snow.

Liz knew the house wasn't being lived in. One could easily tell, it was as if were slumped with disappointment. Sad that no one loved it enough to stay in its warm embrace, that it had no one to shelter from the harsh elements outside. Sad that there was no one who wanted to laugh and love and live within its walls. She could imagine the house's unfulfilled need, much as she imagined it in her own life.

She found a pen in the glove box and stripped it before going to work on the lock, a pleased smile when the tumbler clicked. She knew that Red had a particular affinity for the place, but he was out of the country and even if he wasn't, he remained diligent in not staying in any one place for more than a few nights at a time. Surprisingly enough, instead of the house being cold and damp from the early spring chill, it was warm inside.

Welcoming warm.

As soon as she closed the front door she could feel the tension of the argument she had with her husband bleeding out of her. She closed her eyes in relief as she rested her back against the door, soaking up the warmth that surrounded her, relaxing her tensed muscles for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Finally she opened her eyes waiting for them to adjust to the darkness. She was reluctant to search for any light switches, not wanting the sudden glare to disturb the feeling of peace that was slowly seeping through her body. When she was able to see through the darkness and discern the shrouded shapes in the corners, she made her way to the library and then to the end of the sofa, sinking into the spot Red favored. Somewhere in the house the soft chimes of a clock rang, its four final bells reminding her that the night had almost passed and that now here, she would be safe to rest. She unfolded the soft cashmere throw that rested on the arm of the sofa and covered her body, the scent of Raymond Reddington filling her nostrils as she stroked the soft fabric against her cheek.

It was there, on the sofa, in the library, in the sanctuary of the Hemstead house, that she faced the truth - that nothing was as it seemed on the surface. That her marriage was crumbling and that the man she thought she once loved was pulling away from her and turning into something she no longer recognized. She could almost hear the house's silent sympathy as she pulled the soft wool close and her eyelids fluttered, finally falling asleep in the houses comforting embrace.

xxxxx

The second time she spent the night at the Hemstead house, she had been beat up, bruised and felt pretty much as if she had been thrown out with the trash. She had barely made it up the steps and picking the lock had taken far to much time, her hands trembling with nerves and adrenalin from a stakeout that had gone south. But once inside, she felt it again. The house was waiting for her, welcoming her. Asking gently, she had imagined, on where is was that she had disappeared to for so long. Enveloping her in a warm maternal hug. Of course the house was feminine. Everyone knew that houses were of the female persuasion and if they didn't, they would have recognized it from her graceful lines and the gentle beauty that came with her age.

Liz climbed a slow painful ascent up the staircase in search of a bed to rest on, the house nudging her on. Her hand trailing the oak banister as she made her way to the top of the stairs, the dim light of dawn peeking through the windows, guiding her safely into the unknown that awaited her. The nervousness she felt at intruding into a personal space that wasn't her own, but instead was the safe haven of one of the most notorious criminals in the world, vanished as she reached the last step.

Five paneled doors awaited her at the top. All were closed, except one.

The one furthest away.

The one at the very end of the long hallway.

That door was cracked, just a few inches, coaxing her to come closer. With slow hesitant footsteps she walked toward it, the faint scent of lilac trailing behind her like the wisp in the wind.

It was much later in the day that she finally awakened. The sunlight diffused as it peeked through white batiste sheers and caressed her face. She felt warm and safe as she floated between sleep and awareness. She burrowed deeply under the covers with a sigh of bliss, the soft down of the pillows cradling her head. She was certain it was not so, that there had to have been a time before this, but she simply couldn't recall ever feeling such contentment and comfort. The pain and discomfort she had experienced before falling asleep was gone. The worries that had followed her these last few weeks, vanquished. She smiled sleepily, yes, the house had welcomed her once more.

xxxx

After that it was much easier to find an excuse to creep into the old place at night. It was late, the roads were bad, her brownstone a place to avoid. Truth be told, the house just always welcomed her in a way that couldn't be described. Perhaps it was the beautiful transom windows of lead and diamond shaped cut glass. Or the gleaming worn oak of the wood work or the oriental rugs with their subdued jeweled colors that covered the floors and muffled her footsteps.

Perhaps it was her growing need to avoid her husband and the storm that she sensed was coming.

Whatever the reason was, Lizzie slowly claimed the house as her own and in return, the house claimed her.

Her bedroom, the one she had found that second night, the one in the back that overlooked the garden filled with lilac bushes, was the one she chose as her own. The walls were painted the palest of palest pink. Champagne Blush, she liked to call it. The double bed, high with its little step stool to assist in climbing up and then sinking into the mattress. The tarnished brass headboard with its curly q's and the decades old, hand stitched quilt of white cotton, decorated with the tiniest of faded blue forget-me-not's. Yes, this was the room she claimed and it would have been...presumptuous... of her to claim the master bedroom. If there was irony that she had no qualms in claiming the house but not a certain bedroom, she chose to ignore it, after all, she had gotten very good at choosing to ignore some things.

Red, of course knew that she was sneaking into his home from time to time. Not by words or that penetrating look he had that made her feel as if he could see into her soul. But he still knew. She would have liked to have thought it was the house that had placed the key on the pale yellow nightstand beside her bed, but even she wasn't that fanciful.

No, it was Red. Understanding that sometimes she needed a safe haven, one away from the prying eyes that always seemed to follow her at work and the accusing eyes that followed her at home. Someone somewhere was always judging her, finding her lacking in whatever expectation they had for her. Her husband with his constant look of disappointment, Ressler, his condescending attitude, Cooper, all of them. All except maybe Red. He perhaps more than any of them was the one that judged her the least. Not that she didn't feel the weight of his expectations on her. She just had not been able to define what they were and Red simply had not been willing to share them with her. No, he expected her to either accept in ignorance his plans for her or else solve the riddle herself.

Yet still, hidden away in the quiet comfort of the library, wrapped in the solitude and protection it offered and Red's cashmere throw, she was able to look back on the paths she had taken and what had driven her to make the choices she had. She thought a lot about her childhood, of how Sam had taken her in and raised her as his own. She wondered what flaw it was in her character that she had never demanded answers from him on whom she was and where she had come from.

Thinking back she recalled the handful of times she had brought up the subject of her adoption, of how Sam had shut her down quickly with each inquiry. Even though the love she had for adoptive father had been strong and their bond close, Sam had not been above using guilt as a means to keep her questions at bay. 'Did she not love him?' he had asked her the last she had questioned him. 'Hadn't he done his very best by her?' She had been sixteen at the time and the acute pain she had felt at being disloyal to the only person who had ever been there for her had overwhelmed her. She had vowed then that she would never again ask about her past, never be the cause of seeing Sam's kind eyes filled with hurt. But here, now, as an adult, she understood that Sam had played on the emotions of a child. Whether it had been to protect her or him, she doubted that she would ever know the truth. She had allowed herself to be dissuaded from discovering the story of her origins, but even more disturbing was that she was she still allowing others to guide her in the direction of their choice, instead of forging her own path.

It was those childhood fears of being abandoned that had shaped her. Without logic she had always been afraid that if she wasn't good enough or tidy enough or smart enough, that she would wake up one morning and find Sam gone and she would be without anyone. She was only now beginning to understand how that fear had influenced her to marry a man she thought she loved. She had been the good child, the good student, the good wife. From her earliest memories she had hated discord, despised friction.

Liz was honest enough to recognize her weaknesses and her strengths - and they were many. She could be stubborn to a fault, certainly arrogant at times and rigid in her opinions. She disliked ambiguity and firmly believed in the importance of taking a stand for what you believed in. Whether you were right or wrong in your opinion, it made no difference - as long as you believed in it and fought for it. She had little tolerance for those that live their lives within the comfort of blinders.

But it was at the Hemstead house, that she recognized the biggest truth about herself - that she was a woman of order. She appreciated lines that were clearly defined, she expected structure. She respected accountability and rules, clear cut objectives and goals. Society couldn't function without order and discipline and she had chosen a career that would allow her to help enforce that order. She thought she had chosen a husband that respected and loved those qualities in her.

She admitted that she had grown into a woman of pristine white and ebony black. Sadly enough, the knowledge felt heavy on her, almost unwelcoming. The truth rigid, isolating, it didn't define the passion and wildness that she knew was buried inside of her. She had always known that part of her existed, pushed away and denied as she pursued her desire for order. But more recently and if she were to be honest with herself, since meeting Raymond Reddington, that wild and unfettered emotion was growing stronger as it tried to push itself to the surface and reach out to the light that would allow it to live and thrive.

Her thoughts often drifted to Raymond Reddington. He had been the catalyst of change. The corrupter of her perfect world, perfect job, perfect marriage. From the moment their eyes had met in the box and he had curled his lips into that strange little smile, everything she thought and knew started to unravel. His dramatic entrance had caused her rules to shift and change.

When they had first met she had looked at him with an entrapped type of awe. If she were truthful she would even admit to having been frightened of him. Why wouldn't she be? He had turned himself in, refusing to speak with anyone but her. He was a criminal, number four on the FBI's most wanted. A notoriety that didn't come with out him earning it. She had disregarded his statement that she was his second chance, that there was some kind of bond that connected them. She had been certain they were lies, trickery.

The longer she worked with him, the more time she spent with him, she realized that there was far more beneath the surface of this criminal than what he ever revealed. Like a chameleon, he could adjust and fit into any situation, any scenario in the blink of an eye. Whatever the person expected or thought Raymond Reddington was, he became. He was the ultimate actor, a master manipulator. The question of how much he was manipulating her, remained unanswered.

She watched with amazement as he played blacklisters and shopkeepers alike. That gregarious act that he would put on. Arms out stretched in welcome, the fast paced stride moving towards whoever it was that he was greeting. The tight close bear hugs, voice booming with pleasure as he pulled an acquaintance or enemy close for a kiss on each cheek.

She couldn't help but think it interesting that he never greeted her that way.

And then there was the Red of tight thin lips and narrowed eyes. A voice that could leave a person questioning if they would still be alive at the end of the day and sometimes they weren't. Raymond Reddington lived by his own code of justice and honor. Loyalty, not to his own country or any other country, but loyalty to himself, to those that he trusted. Loyalty to Luli, Dembe and even in some strange way that she had yet to understand - her. He had proven it time and again. After he stepped out of the box to save her life, she had stopped questioning his commitment to her and just accepted it.

Vigilante some might call him. Monster and murderer were the words that she had once flung in his face. But the more time they spent together, the more she saw that the names eliminated from his Blacklist were far more deserving of the words monster and murderer than Raymond Reddington ever was.

It was there, in the comfort of Fredrick's library, that she came to the realization that what she thought was the way of honor and justice, of clearly defined lines, of truth and righteousness, was not always the case. That good frequently disguised itself as evil. Where honor was a definition you found inside of yourself and not always found in the words written by man. That the shimmering image of your reflection in the water was a more accurate picture of your soul than the one reflected in a mirror.

That was when she stopped looking at Red with the eyes of a profiler and once that happened, her pristine white lost a little of its crispness and her ebony black began to fade and she began that slow slide into a world of grey.

xxxxxx

**So there you have it! Chapter One. I hope you're still awake after reading. I'm concerned that it was to long, dry and boring. I just wanted to spend some time delving into Lizzies psych. Hope you stay with me!**


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! Thanks everyone for the wonderful supportive reviews and the favorites and follows. You are the best! Here's chapter two, picking up the pace a little. xxx JJ

Chapter Two - The Truth Shall Set You Free

The truth - when it finally reared its ugly head and roared - was the ultimate of deceptions. Brutal in the deliberate, callus way in which it had been planned. Heartless to the extreme in its execution.

A loving husband. A warm embrace. Strong hands pulling her tight against his groin. A long, deep, lingering kiss, mouth turning into a soft smile as his groan of pleasure rumbled down his throat. Hands stroking her ribs, caressing her breasts, moving to gently grasp her hair and tip her head back.

His mouth nipping on the lobe of her ear. The hands moving again, one at the base of her neck, fingers massaging her cool skin, the other cupped against her throat. Until suddenly, both hands were tightening and her eyes were rolling back as her stunned mind tried to comprehend what was happening and his grip became tighter, watching her, the pupils of his eyes dilated with arousal as she gasped for air and he whispered into her ear.

Tom Keen had, for money and promises of power and the greatness of glory, integrated his life so closely into hers, all for the purpose of ultimately killing her.

Their entire life had been nothing but a lie...

Liz watched him being interrogated by Cooper and Ressler. Watched as he remained silent. She searched his face looking for signs of the man that had tried to kill her. He looked the same as he had yesterday and the day before and the day before that. Soft gentle brown eyes, puppy dog eyes, his posture relaxed, casual even as he ignored Resslers rage, choosing instead to stare through the interrogation window as if he could actually see her.

If it hadn't been for the fact that he had tried to kill her in their home, she still wouldn't have believed the depth of his guilt. She pushed away the events that kept floating to the surface of her mind. The fear was still a tight knot churning in her stomach, a pain so deep she couldn't ever imagine it subsiding.

Tom hadn't realized when he welcomed her home earlier in the evening that she wouldn't be staying. She had just stopped in to apologize, the false words meant to soothe him actually, filled with guilt for being glad of any excuse to avoid him. Dembe had picked her up after work and had been waiting outside in the Mercedes to take her to see Red and to discuss the latest name on his list. When she hadn't returned within the few minutes she had promised, he had texted her. When she hadn't responded to the text, he had knocked on her door. When he had heard her weak scream and the sounds of a struggle he had broken the door down and found her husband slowly choking the life out of her.

As much as she fought, Liz simply had been no physical match for her husband. She had struggled to break the grip of his hands, thrashed and twisted, kicked and clawed with every ounce of strength she had to no avail. She remembered everything turning red, harsh bright red as her vision began to fade away.

The fight for her life didn't end until Dembe pulled Tom off of her. With one brutal swipe of his large fist Tom fell to the floor and the fight was over.

If it hadn't been for the bodyguard she would be dead. It was as simple as that. She had been unable to defend herself, she hadn't been strong enough or quick enough or smart enough. She had trusted and been betrayed. The one person in her life that she had once upon a time pledged herself to, had turned on her in the most horrific manner possible.

The failing of her marriage by the normal wear and stress that most marriages falter under had been devastating enough. To accept and take responsibility for the distance that had grown between them had been a burden that Liz had willing accepted. But to suddenly find that the time and energy and love she had put into their relationship for years - had meant nothing. Nothing at all, shattered her very being. She so very much wanted to curl into a tight ball and scream her rage away.

Instead, she pressed her hand against the glass and rested her cheek against the cool surface. Tom never flinched as Ressler started to work him over. A blow to the stomach, another breaking his nose. A sick feeling of dread suddenly overwhelmed her and she felt her limbs start to tremble with shock. What if he walked? She had seen it happen time and time again. Solid cases, overwhelming evidence, only to see the suspect walk out the door a free man. What if that happened with Tom?

Cooper, she needed to go to him. Tell him it had all been a horrible misunderstanding. A mistake had been made. She needed to somehow convince him that it had been nothing more than a fight that had gotten out of hand. A bodyguard's overreaction to what he perceived to be danger. Yes, she needed to convince Cooper to release Tom.

And then she would take a knife to his chest and cut his heart out in retaliation for betraying her so completely.

She would take her gun and aim it at his head and squeeze the trigger until there were no more bullets left, for stealing her trust in him.

For taking her life and everything she knew away these past years. The pleasure that thought gave her fueled her anger even more. She closed her eyes and imagined his blood on her hands. She knew it was the nightmare events of the evening that were feeding her fantasies for revenge, but for a brief moment, as she thought of killing him, the fear subsided just a little, the tightness in her stomach eased and she felt the tiniest glimmer of the control she thought lost..

She felt Red come to stand behind her, only inches away. His breath puffing in her hair. Even in her dazed state she had recognized the look on his face. She had watched the nerve in his cheek twitching almost uncontrollably and it told her all she needed to know. He was in a rage and he had been denied satisfaction. He had wanted the opportunity to finish Tom off and make his body simply disappear like a well honed magic trick and he had been robbed of that, just as she had been. He was angry that he had arrived after the police, who had been called by a concerned neighbor after witnessing Dembe breaking her door down. After Ressler who had taken charge and ordered a cuffed Tom Keen to be taken to the post office.

She turned and looked up at him and suddenly realized how envious she was of him. Of his power. His resources. His strength. He had the capability of crushing to death his enemies and to not be held accountable for it. She wanted that power, to be that unstoppable, to be that strong. Strong enough to destroy the evil that existed. Strong enough to destroy someone like her husband. Strong enough that she would never again feel this sick sensation in her stomach that threatened to consume her.

"Elizabeth." His words soft and gentle, his eyes cold and hard. "I need to speak with Cooper for a few minutes and then I'm taking you home with me." From the time Red had arrived at her house he had remained close to her side, hovering and so uncharacteristically nervous.

She shook her head no, throat raw and sore, her face grimacing from the motion. She wanted to be alone, to think through the events that had happened, to clear her mind and focus. Somehow she had to regroup, to steel her backbone and her resolve. She had more problems to face than just the man sitting behind the glass.

"I insist Lizzie."

"No, Merra is waiting for me downstairs. I'm going to spend the night with her. Probably stay the next few days." She turned back to her husband and the foolish question of whether or not he really was her husband flashed through her mind. Inanely she wondered if she needed to get a divorce, an annulment or even do anything at all. Was she actually even married to him? She could feel Reds reluctance to her plans and prepared herself.

"I think it's best if you come with me." He spoke with the calm authoritative tone of a man who was used to having his own way. He waited quietly until she finally turned away from the window and looked up at him. He noted the wildness of her eyes, the paper white paleness of her skin. His eyes rested and then tightened with fury at the bruises on her neck.

"Merra's waiting. I'll be fine. I'll talk with you tomorrow or the next day." She nodded reassuringly at him and found a brief smile for him. "Thank you for being here."

"I'm not happy about this Lizzie." Red finally said, his hand stroking her arm.

"It's what I want." Her voice soft yet final as she took one last look at Tom. He was still staring at the window, his face bloody now and she felt a chill chase her spine, the nausea turning the saliva in her mouth bitter like the taste of acid. Turning she left the room, aware of the green angry eyes following her.

Lizzie stepped out of the Post Office and into the night. She had lied to Red, told him that she would be going with Merra. In reality, she couldn't bear the thought of being with anyone. She didn't want to hear questions being asked to which she had no answer for. She didn't want comfort or condolences. She needed to think or not think, at this point she wasn't certain. To much had happened and she simply couldn't absorb anything more. She just knew she needed to be alone. The blocks passed easily as she walked towards the tourist section of DC. Finding a cab in the midnight hour, she gave the driver the address to the only place she had to go.

Lines furrowed Reds forehead as he watched Lizzie leave, a deep sigh huffing from him. He motioned for Dembe to join him and then turned to the interrogation room. Opening the door, he ignored Cooper and Resslers surprised look. To their credit, they remained silent, stepping away from Tom Keen, placing themselves against the wall, arms folded as they waited for the next step.

"Well then Tom, shall we get started?" Red asked, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

xxxxxx

With a quiet push she opened the door of the Hemstead house and stepped inside. It had been several weeks since she had last been here. She had stayed away realizing that she had been using the convenience of the house to hide from her problems. She had convinced herself that all she had needed to do was recommit to Tom and the doubts and pressure of their failing marriage would fade. How wrong she had been in that decision.

She would think of all the things she needed to take care of later. Not right now though, right now she needed to find a way to tap down the rage and fear that still pumped through her veins leaving her flesh tingling and raw.

She began the familiar ritual she performed each time she entered the house. Back against the door, eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, standing in the darkness of the hallway waiting. Again, she inhaled and held the breath in her lungs while continuing to breathe in the air around her. There! There it was that faint sweet smell of lilac that lingered in the house in the midst of dust and manuscripts. She shivered with nerves, exhaling slowly. The house had been waiting for her.

She needed the solitude she had always found here. Needed to put her thoughts in order. To try and come to terms with what had happened. The house had become her safe haven when she had believed that her biggest problem was her husband's disappointment that she wouldn't move, wouldn't have a baby and wouldn't abandon her career. Not that he was a cold blooded killer.

Moonshine and madness - somehow the two went together. She poured a finger, then two and then filled the mason jar glass up to the top. A quick gulp sent half of it burning down her throat, her body reacted with a harsh shudder, rebelling, stomach convulsing. She gagged at the taste as another shudder racked through her and the moonshine threatened to make its way back up.

She was failure.

A complete and utter failure.

With all of her degrees in psychology, her training as a profiler, her experience in the field, she had failed to acknowledge one hint of who Tom Keen actually was. Even when presented with the box, she had still protected her husband. Refused to think that the money, the gun and passports were anything more than Reddingtons attempt at a setup. She had been so eager to accept blindly Tom's vows of innocence.

How could she have been so foolish?

So needy?

So goddamn pathetic?

She was the one that had allowed herself to fall prey to Tom Keen. She had wanted him, had loved him and had wanted to believe in the life they had created. She had made it so easy for him to deceive her.

God she wanted nothing more than to kill him.

She rested her head against the sofa as if she could physically push her thoughts away. The muscles in her neck tight and aching. The moonshine had helped to calm the nervous energy that raced through her but had done nothing to calm the wild rushing of her thoughts. Her eyes started to burn and she closed them, waiting for the pain to ease. Instead, she started to feel tears welling behind her lids.

Damn, she refused to shed tears. She would not give in to that weakness, that further validation of her low self worth. A weak pathetic woman crying tears of injury. No the anger, the hate, that was what she needed to hang on to. That was what would make her strong.

The moonshine had done its job, lulling her into a shocked stupor as she continued to stare out the window. The darkness of the room beginning to lighten as dawn began to ascend. She felt the weight of him stirring beside her on the sofa. Smelled the familiar scent of his cologne. She continued to ignore him, had ignored him the hours he had sat there in silence beside her. The moonshine the only comfort she was looking for.

The room started to fill with a soft morning light as the sun rose higher. She didn't remember him taking her hand, rubbing his thumb over the scar that covered her palm. She had almost forgotten that he still sat beside her in the silence.

The view outside the window was now visible, the sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees. It was all ending. No, it already had ended, everything she thought was true about her life was over.

"Everything about me is lie." She finally whispered. Whether it was to him or the house or simply to herself, it didn't matter, her eyes remaining fixed on the view.

Red shook his head in disagreement, remaining silent. She didn't want to hear his reassurances that none of this had been her fault. She needed someone to listen to her pain. At the very least he could do that for her. Be the strength that would hold her up as her world crumbled.

"Do you know how many times he told me that he loved me?" Her words were whispered. He squeezed her hand gently and she continued.

"Do you know how many times he told me I was his entire world? How many times he made loved to me?" Her voice becoming stronger, rising with the anger that still raged in her. "No wait." She huffed. "I made love to him, while he fucked me." Her laugh was bitter, self depreciating. "I was nothing more than job to him. A goddamn job."

Still looking out the window she held the mason jar up to light. The last little bit of the liquid left, pale and milky. She tossed it back and finally turned away from the window, looking in Red's eyes.

"Never again will I allow someone to use me." Her words were a warning, the tilt of her chin defiant, her eyes narrowed.

With her softly spoken words Red was suddenly very afraid that all they had shared had been snuffed out. The tentative bond that he had worked so tirelessly to nurture and build upon may have been destroyed. He felt the crushing sense of loss press upon his chest. Reaching out he caressed her face, suddenly understanding that Tom Keen had had his final revenge against her.

"Lizzie, I'm so, so sorry." His voice a low, pained growl as he searched blue eyes that looked at him with their beautiful light extinguished.

His sense of doom increased as she asked the question he most feared.

"Did you kill my father?" She whispered softly.

Red drew in a deep painful breath. "It's complicated Lizzie."

"Did you kill Sam?" She pulled her hand away and turned her head, looking back out the window, unable to meet his eyes.

"Now isn't the time to talk about Sam." His tone pleading with her.

She slowly exhaled, hearing his unspoken answer. No, now wasn't the time, she simply couldn't take anymore just now and in her heart she already knew the answer. She smelled the lilac that suddenly surrounded her and closed her eyes, drifting into what would be the last of her dreamless sleeps for some time to come.

xxxx

Thanks for staying with me! We'll be back...


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to read and review and follow and favorite! You are the BEST!

xxxxxx

Chapter 3 - Crab Bisque Anyone?

Frightened eyes flashed the color of midnight, opening wide in the dark room, her heart pounding painfully beneath her ribs. She forced down the primal urge to scream as her racing mind battled the fear that was crushing her chest into a tight vise. Frozen, she laid motionless in her bed to terrified to move, unaware that even the breath she had inhaled was caught deep in her lungs. Her limbs were rigid, the muscles and tendons tight, hands clenched into fists as nails dug painfully into her skin.

She was petrified. Certain in her sleep induced haze that her husband rested in the bed beside her. Swore she could feel the heat radiating from his body and hear his soft snores. Cautiously she inched her foot across the bed, prepared to flee to safety if need be, but she only felt the cool sheets against her skin. Reason was starting to soak into her terrified mind as she began to process her surroundings. Her body's urgent demand for oxygen had her suddenly exhaling and she began gasping for air as she curled into a tight ball.

Tom was gone. He couldn't hurt her again. She had nothing to fear. Liz could only pray that if she kept telling herself that often enough, maybe she would actually start to believe it.

Agonizing seconds floated into minutes until the fear finally subsided and she accepted that she was alone. She had lost track of how many nights she had awakened to the same pounding fear, reliving the moments of that night. She remained still until the worst of the nightmare induced anxiety attack faded, her body soaked in a cold sweat.

She didn't know how much longer she would be able to withstand the memories that reached out to her with its claws as she slept. In her nightmares she relived Tom becoming a man she didn't know, his hands gripping her throat, his mocking words as she sank deeper into certain death. Then the final blow - his laughter as he whispered Reds betrayal to her.

She forced her way out of the bed and staggered slowly to the bathroom, hands fumbling and shaking as she turned the faucet on and began to splash water on her burning face. Cupping her palms she gulped the liquid before her legs finally gave out from beneath her and she sunk to the cold tile of the floor. Wrapping her arms around her chest she burrowed deep in the corner, her mind continuing to replay each moment of that horrible night. When she was finally able to breathe past the terror that had gripped her she stripped her night clothes off and dressed.

Her only thought was escaping the room, the house, with its horrible memories and running into the safety the night offered.

xxxxxx

Liz tried to keep her attention fixed on Cooper who was droning on and on about nothing at all – or at least she thought it was about nothing at all. The fascination and interest she had once felt for her job had long since dissipated and she wished she were anywhere rather than where she was just now.

She had been up since the early morning hours, escaping the house before the spidery clutches of a nightmare could grip her, running several miles before the sun had even started to think about rising. It had become her ritual, her road to sanity.

Run. Work. Run. Work. Run. Work.

Because she had to believe with unfailing certainty that if she ran long enough, worked hard enough, fought bravely enough, she just might be able to find her way out of the darkness that was trying to engulf her.

Returning back to the house at dawn that morning, she had showered and then come to the office plowing through several inches of file folders until Cooper had called this meeting. They were all there, the entire team, except Red. Red was in the wind and she couldn't help but wonder just where it was in the world that he had escaped to. It had been weeks since she had seen or heard from him and she refused to admit that without him it felt as if she were drifting through the days. When had Red become any kind of an anchor?

She rested her head on the back of the hard chair and let her mind drift to the man that was never far from her thoughts.

She had slowly come to terms with Red being the cause of her fathers death. She had argued and debated with herself for hours over the moral ramifications of euthanasia, even now her stomach churned when she thought about the last few minutes of Sams life. Regardless of anything her father would have wished or asked for, how had Red been able to do such a thing? What was it in the very fiber of his being that he could reach down into himself and end someone's life? Not an enemy's life, not as self defense, not as revenge, but as a mercy killing of a man he called friend. A hard, cold, deliberate mercy killing. Try as she might, she doubted she would ever fully understand Raymond Reddington. The thought of just how many lives he had taken over the years teased at her until she huffed with annoyance and pushed the question away. She didn't want to know and she didn't like what that said about her.

Red had come into her life, destroying the foundation she had thought once was strong. Piece by piece he had taken away everything. Her hopes for a child, her marriage, her father. Logic told her that Red had been correct in warning her about Tom, in trying to dissuade her to not adopt, in giving Sam the peace he so desperately craved, but that knowledge now only reminded her of her own incompetence. He had left her with nothing. She was no longer anyone's good child or good wife. It was as if she, along with what had once been her life, no longer existed.

xxxxx

Liz juggled keys and shopping bag, looping the strap of her handbag on her shoulder as she unlocked the door. The bag slipped off her shoulder and caught on her elbow as she turned the knob and bumped the door open with her hip. Immediately she could feel that she wasn't alone in the house. She stood motionless, alarm fluttering through her body sending her pulse pounding into her throat as her bags slid silently to the floor and her fingers reached for her gun and she tried to sense the presence she felt.

"Ah Lizzie, finally your home." That all too familiar husky tone called from the kitchen.

She felt her body deflate like air hissing out of a balloon and her stomach dropped with dread and something else that she couldn't quite identify.

Red.

She still didn't know if she was ready to face him, but it would appear that her time had run out and she no longer had a choice. Not that she ever had much of a choice when it came to him. Her anger at him had lessened with their time apart, but she wasn't about to forget the valuable lesson she had learned. Regardless of the special place he claimed she held in his life, Raymond Reddington was the most ruthless man she would ever meet, a power that if she lived a hundred lifetimes, would never see again.

Steeling her back and her nerves she slowly trailed to the kitchen. There he stood, in all of his arrogance, shirt sleeves rolled up, washing the dirty wine glasses that had accumulated over the last week. Somewhere along the way, housekeeping duties had dropped off her list of things to do. She didn't care, it was her house and it wasn't as if she had invited him in.

He looked...she paused, her throat suddenly growing thick with emotion. He looked...like Red. Like safety and promises and the man that could chase away her nightmares. Truly she had lost her mind...

She quickly blinked back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. His crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, vest open and suit coat and tie discarded. She shouldn't be feeling this overwhelming sensation of emotion that was closing her throat at knowing he had returned. He would do nothing but make her life even more complicated and difficult than what it already was.

He greeted her with a bright smile that didn't reach his eyes as he warily watched and gauged her reaction to seeing him. Concern deepened his crows feet as he took in her appearance, appraising her slight stature. Her weight loss apparent in the prominence of her cheek bones and the hollows in her neck. He had spent the last hour nervously waiting her return and rambling through the brownstone. What he had discovered told him that she was far from beginning the road to acceptance in his deeds and Tom Keens.

Her bedroom had the closed up musty air of a room unused. The bed neatly made up but the dust thick enough on the furniture that had he been so inclined he could have written his name on it. Much of the contents of her closet missing, any sign that a man had once shared the space, gone. He had found her clothing shoved into a first floor hall closet and the contents of her dresser stacked in the corner of the living room. The tangled mess of bed sheets and pillows on her sofa along with the empty wine bottles and dirty glasses finished the story.

Their last meeting had been difficult and he had hoped that time apart would have taken the edge off her anger at discovering he had been the reason for Sam's death. He had thought that perhaps some distance would allow her to put things into a calmer perspective. They had argued and he, as much as it had pained him to do so, yet feeling frustrated beyond belief, had granted her far too calm request to leave. He had been only too conscious of the fact that his involvement in her life at the time, was keeping her on edge and raw. He would have preferred her screaming and yelling at him. Even a repeat of the pen jammed into his clavicle would have been preferable to the blank distant stare she had given him.

Unable to deny her anything, he had done as she asked, leaving her a number where she would be able to reach him if she needed him. He had waited anxiously for a call that he knew wasn't going to come until Mr. Kaplin informed him of her physical decline. It was then he knew he needed to take matters back into his own hands. He had given Lizzie enough time.

"Hello Red," Her voice cautious, though she didn't sound quite as harsh as she had wanted. She placed the bag on the counter trying to recover from the shock of seeing him. A part of her had wondered if she ever would ever see him again, another part of her scoffed at the thought. There was no getting rid of this man. She may have understood the reasons why he had ended Sams life, but that didn't ease the pain that it had been the man in front of her that had carried out his wishes. That he had known Sam even longer than she had. That they had shared a history that both men had kept from her and that Red continued to keep hidden.

She was reminded of her own anger towards herself. How in the end, it had been she that had failed her father. Red had been the one to encourage her to go see Sam, had offered his private jet for her use. She should have dropped everything and rushed to her fathers side. Instead it had been Tom who had gone to visit Sam. She wondered not for the first time if Tom's intent had also been to finish Sam off, but not for the same reasons. Another riddle in the puzzle that would remain unknown.

She huffed quietly, she had placed the FBI before her father and for what? The FBI wouldn't be there to comfort her when she was scared or to offer sound advice or love her no matter what her faults and now it was too late. The opportunity to say goodbye to her father was gone and the man in front of her had been the catalyst.

Slowly she began to unpack the groceries, carefully placing each item on the counter. Four yogurts, four shiny red apples, four pathetic frozen dinners as she stalled for time to allow herself to regroup and focus. She was taken aback by the overwhelming sense of sadness and loss that was washing over her at seeing Red. The loss of what had once been and the loss of what might have been.

Their relationship had been different, unique even and it had progressed to the point where she had foolishly forgotten just who and what Raymond Reddington really was.

He was criminal.

A liar.

A murderer.

Somewhere along the way she had started to glamorize him. The criminal had become a victim, the liar had become a storyteller, the murderer had become a man in search of justice. She had been wrong, he was no different from the man that had pretended to love and marry her, Tom also had been a criminal, a liar and a murderer and look where that relationship had gotten her.

Raymond Reddington could say what he wanted, tell her she meant everything in the world to him, protect her with his life, but the fact remained that she was simply an asset to him. An unwitting pawn in a game he was playing with an un-named opponent. And once her value to him had been realized, once his goal had been achieved, well then the game would be over and so would his proclaimed devotion to her. A sad and hurtful truth she realized.

Red narrowed his eyes as he took in the contents of her shopping, when she finished emptying the bag she neatly folded it, her fingers continuing to absently stroke it smooth. He had gone through the kitchen cabinets, the refrigerator. The stark emptiness striking home just how much she had been neglecting her health. Red took her continued silence as a positive sign and he slowly closed the distance between them, his movements cautious as if he were afraid she would startle and disappear.

"You don't look well Lizzie." His voice dropped to a soft growl. He couldn't stop from placing his hand on her chin and tilting her head upwards. His expression never changed but he couldn't help the feeling of relief when she didn't pull away from him. She blinked once and then once again, meeting his eyes as if she just remembered that he was there.

He pushed onward, "Dembe and I were having lunch at the most delightful little place in Givrand on the coast of France and they had the most marvelous crab bisque. All I could think of was how much you would enjoy it. So I had them package me a container, some baguettes and fresh raspberry butter and we flew back."

His voice sent a shiver down her spine and she could only focus on the soft curls that showed between the open buttons of his shirt.

"What do you say Lizzie, are you up for bisque?" He stared at her eyes until she finally looked up and Liz for a moment she deluded herself that those green eyes were pleading.

She thought about the question he was really asking her. Had she forgiven him for Sam? Was she able to move forward and continue working with him? Those were the questions he was asking with his inane offer of bisque and raspberry butter. Her lips curved in a bitter sweet smile as she reminded herself of all that she used to be. The good child, the good wife, the good FBI agent. Those were all gone now, but she was certain she still knew how to be the good pawn to the Concierge of Crime.

She shrugged away her thoughts and rolled her eyes at him, surprisingly and suddenly she felt grounded again. An unfamiliar and long missed flutter of peace settling deep inside. "Red, only you would do take out from France." She was proud that her voice was calm and clear.

He chuckled, his knees weakening and his heart skipping a beat. "It's good to see you again." He whispered, pulling her into a gentle embrace and breathing in her scent, mindful of the fact that her arms remained unmoving at her side.


	4. Chapter 4

Words don't even begin to express how fantastic everyone has been! Thank you so much for the reviews, the follows and the favorites. While I don't own anything to do with the Blacklist, I did play the lottery - so perhaps that will change! Have fun!

Chapter 4 Running Just As Fast As I Can

Liz crossed into the park her stride steady and certain as she ran in time to the beat of the music thumping from her ear buds. She clung to these early morning runs like a life jacket in a drowning ocean. It was the only time she felt any semblance of control over her life.

As she ran, her thoughts focused on Red, a common occurrence she was realizing. She had noticed how Reds demeanor over the last few weeks since he had returned had changed and become even more aggressive than what it had been before their separation. Before Tom and before her father. At some point not long after his return, he had thrown away any pretense of respecting her personal space, almost obsessively attaching himself to her whenever they were together.

It was as if he had made it his personal objective to eliminate any attempt she made at keeping their relationship on a strictly professional level. His eyes constantly followed her, watching her, analyzing her every move. He thought nothing of appearing at her doorstep at any time of the day or night with a bag of takeout or a request to walk with him while they discussed the latest case. He pushed endlessly on her decision to remain in the brownstone instead of moving to Fredrick's or any other place she wanted. He ignored Ressler and barely tolerated Cooper when he was at the Post Office, making it obviously clear that she was the only reason he was there.

He touched her frequently, casually admittedly, but often. Perhaps doted on would be the best word, as he constantly tried to bring their conversations to a personal level, of which she had so far been able to successfully deflect. She thought of confronting him about his behavior, but that quiet, logical "good" voice in the back of her mind stressed that it wasn't the best of ideals.

The realization came to her suddenly - it almost felt as if her were trying to seduce her. Perhaps not sexually, but certainly emotionally. Her footsteps slowed as she contemplated her new found knowledge. Why was it so important for Red to try and create an intimacy between them? Wasn't it enough that she had agreed to and was working with him again? Why did he insist on trying to create a bond?

She discovered that she was more annoyed with herself for not realizing it sooner, than with Red and his strange behavior. After all, one could expect absolutely anything from the man. She however, was trained in reading people, understanding their motivations, how had she missed this? A better question to ask would be why was she surprised she had missed it? She had certainly not realized her own husband's motivations, fine FBI agent she made, her mood turning sour as she dissected her new found revelation.

Regardless of what was going on his in his mind or what his end game was, she wasn't going to let him control or impact her personal life. Of course if she were to be honest she didn't have a personal life, but if she did...

But if the entire situation between the two of them had taught her one thing, it was that she was slowly learning on how to best handle Red and that was by ignoring him and simply continuing on with whatever she chose to do. Arguing certainly didn't work, he had a tendency to just plow over any of her objections which irritated her to no end. No, ignoring him and his endless "suggestions" was far more effective than anything else she had attempted since she had met him. And if it served to frustrate Red, well she wasn't above feeling a little self satisfaction at that.

A pretty young jogger ran passed her slowed pace, blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail, baseball cap pulled low over her forehead, pink breast cancer trainers smacking on the running path. They smiled and nodded at each other as the girl moved forward. She seldom saw anyone else out in the park this early in the morning, except the parks maintenance men, most runners preferring to wait until at least a little closer to dawn. She wondered if the young woman had demons that she was also running from.

She allowed her thoughts to drift back to Red, a part of her, the honest to a fault part of her, the weak part of her, couldn't help but think how easy it would be to just give in and let Red take charge of her life, her career, her future. Fall into his demands to move from the brownstone, to eat more, to stop fighting him and let their relationship progress to whatever plateau he wanted.

To trust him.

But the thought of allowing herself to trust Red or any man again was almost abhorrent to her. She had learned her lesson the hard way and she was very aware that she wasn't willing to fall into that trap again.

She was still overwhelmed by the continued feeling of helplessness and failure that seemed to haunt her every move. Red was everything she wasn't and she resented him for it. The man was brilliant, confident and ruthless. While she...she just felt like a bad joke most days. Her coveted position with the FBI was only a result of Reds demands. Her embarrassment of a marriage to a man for over two years and she had no idea of who he really was, a profiler who couldn't even profile and just as humiliating - she hadn't even been capable enough to physically defend herself from her fake husbands attack.

She increased her pace trailing the girl in front of her as she left the park and made her way through the residential area that led to the brownstone.

The place had become her willing prison. A symbol of her refusal to let what had happened there, chase her away. A battle of flesh and blood against a house filled with memories and nightmares.

Another war she wasn't winning.

xxxxx

Dembe felt the cell phones vibration humming through the fabric of his trouser pocket. With one seamless motion he removed the phone and identified the caller. His dark brown eyes narrowed with concern before moving to glance at the man standing motionless, staring out the floor length window into the shrouded darkness with only the moonlight illuminating the view.

Deciding on discretion he moved soundlessly out of the atrium of the house and into the cool darkness of the hallway. He wasted no time on greetings or pleasantries, instead answering the phone with one word. "Update."

"She's been located." The words brief as the man rattled off an address. The voice paused for several seconds and Dembe waited patiently. "He's not going to be happy."

"Is she in danger?" Dembe's voice fluid in the darkness.

The voice hesitated once more. "It's a matter of opinion."

"Do not let anything happen to her." He ordered softly.

"Understood."

Dembe replaced the phone already moving to inform Raymond of the latest news.

xxxxx

The alley stank. Stank of urine and the stench of rotten garbage in the stacks of trash bags that lined the narrow path way between two decrepit brick buildings.

From the time Dembe had informed him that they had located Lizzie, Red could feel his anger building. When Dembe drove into a part of town that no one, especially a woman alone and at night should venture to, the anger began to turn into fury. Exiting the car, the two men nodded at the man that stepped out of the shadows to join them.

"Stay with the car." Dembe instructed, his eyes immediately identifying the illicit behavior of several men clustered together at the end of the block.

The man nodded, his blue eyes like crystal ice and his salt and pepper hair pulled back into a pony tail. "Straight down there, fourth door on the right."

They moved past him and entered the alleyway, ignoring the scurrying sound of rats picking and clawing at the litter. Someone had written on the pea green steel door "Jakes Place" and Dembe slowly opened it, his hand resting on the hilt of his gun tucked in the waistband of his trousers, safely hidden underneath his denim jacket.

The door opened to a steep narrow wooden staircase that led down to a basement. The sounds of grunts and shouts echoing up the steps as the two men slowly made their way down, the stairs sagging with each footstep. Reaching the bottom they followed the plastered hallway, surprisingly swept clean except for the grungy ivory colored paint chips that were curling off the walls and falling to the floor like shavings of chocolate.

Red inhale sharply when they entered the cavernous basement. Bare light bulbs were strung from the ceiling struggling to illuminate the room. The humidity and odor of sweat hung in the air like a damp cloth despite the industrial fans that were humming. Punching bags hung from heavy chains connected to steel beams and rubber mats covered sections of the cement floor. A large Hispanic man that equaled the size of Dembe, his muscles glistening with sweat, pounded his fists on one of the bags, while another man, just as large, held it steady.

Several sets of free weights and benches lined one side of the room, a handful of men concentrating on lifting. Someone had attached to the walls several posters advertising the UFC and Free Form Fighting, but it was the occupant of the boxing ring that dominated the room that captured Red's attention.

Lizzie.

His Lizzie catching a hard blow to her cheek, knocking her back against the rope. He watched frozen unable to react as she lunged back at the man, propelling them both to the middle of the ring, the momentum knocking them down. They struggled to recover, Lizzie slightly quicker as she rolled away and regained her footing. Her opponent was only a few inches taller, young, not long out of school, but he still had a good forty pounds more of weight and all of it was muscle. Already she was in position and with a tight spin, her leg extended she swept the man's feet out from underneath knocking him down again with painful thump.

A sharp whistle blew and Red watched as Lizzie held her hand out to the fighter and helped pull him up, their hands wrapped with tape, lightly punching their fists together.

"Good, much better." A man shouted, jumping into the ring with the two of them. He was in his late thirties, wearing loose sweat pants that had been cut off into long shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. His head was shaved, his muscle roped arms and chest disclosed a story that here stood a man that had done tens of thousands of pushups. The tattoo of a snaked coiled around the length of his arm was only one of the jail house inks that covered his arms and chest and neck. Approaching Lizzie he motioned for her to lift her leg and then he grasped it firmly by the ankle so it was parallel to the floor.

"Carlos." He waved the fighter over to stand a few inches from her foot. Looking at Lizzie, he slapped her Lycra covered thigh sharply with his free hand. "Next time arch your foot more. You need to strike with the heel not the toe, keep the knee bent until you make contact and then push. Try it again." He ordered before stepping away and out of the ring, motioning them to continue.

Red watched speechless, still trying to determine the best way to end the latest asinine stunt that Lizzie had gotten into. Her kick was cleaner this time, but her opponent reacted smoothly, grabbing her leg and using his elbow to clip her rib cage, knocking her backwards. Red, finally shocked out of his stupor, reacted immediately, pulling the small gun from his coat pocket and firing it into one of the punching bags. All motion in the gym immediately stopped and eyes turned to the immaculately dressed older man and the formidable bodyguard standing beside him.

Liz felt an unnatural chill run down her back just before she heard the gun shot. Remaining motionless she waited a heartbeat before turning around. She knew just what she would see. Red. Shit. Did she need this aggravation?

"Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing? This is my place!" The man that had been in the ring with Lizzie just a short minute ago striding towards them. "You better have come with something bigger than that." He nodded at the gun Red held, stopping short when Dembe pulled the Glock 37 out from behind his back.

Stopping a few feet in front of Red, he held up his hands. "Look, I don't want or need any problems. I'm trying to run a clean place here. If you're looking for drugs you made a wrong turn, alley - blue door. If you're looking to get laid, try the one that has "Fuck You" written on it." His words were sharp and quick.

"That won't be necessary, I have found just what I was looking for." Red said softly, his narrowed eyes didn't leave Lizzies face, daring her to try and ignore him.

"What are doing here, Red?" She finally asked, her stance defiant, irritation lacing her words.

"I think you know quite well why I am here Lizzie. Play time is over." He gave her a slight smile, his lips curling to one side, the fury radiating from him an almost palpable sensation in the room.

Jake glanced at the man and then back to his latest student. He'd had a feeling that the woman was going to be nothing but trouble, but money was money and she had been adamant that she needed to improve her fighting skills. A test go with her in the ring had convinced him that she was serious and not some little girl playing. He hadn't asked what she did for a living, didn't make any difference to him, but he quickly realized that she had all the earmarking of law enforcement.

He needed to stay on the good side of law enforcement.

Liz debated on whether to rebel or concede. A glance at Dembe decided it for her. As furious as Red looked, which was pretty damn furious, Dembe  
was coming in a close second, the muscles in his arms rippling in readiness for the potential fight that hung in the air as the other men in the gym  
slowly moved behind them, their intent clear. Fire power or not, they were not the type to be intimidated or pass up the opportunity to show off their  
brawn. Within minutes there was going to be a full blown fight in progress.

"Fine." She snarled, slipping under the ropes of the ring and nodding to Jake. "I'll see you next week." She couldn't help but say belligerently.

The man stared at her. "I think a refund is more in order." The meaning clear - don't come back.

Jake looked at the woman and then back to the two men, suddenly uneasy to just let her leave with them. After all, they were both carrying. He was on parole, struggling to start a business, struggling to not go back to prison. He didn't need this. He was a lot of things, a hero wasn't one of them. Fuck!

"Look, if you don't want to go with them, just say the word." He raised his chin up and glared at both Dembe and Red. He had spent almost a third of his years in prison, he had no desire to go back, but he wasn't going to let her leave if she was in danger. She may act as if she was invincible, but he knew damn well she wasn't. The woman was very breakable.

Red stared at the man, noted his determined posture and the clear hard look in his eyes. His decision was made in an instant. He would send Dembe back later to reward the man for his loyalty to Elizabeth. It was in situations like these that Red had accumulated his never ending network of connections. One never knew when this man may be valuable to him some day. Red nodded at him, acknowledging his threat but not reacting to it. Then he turned to Lizzie and held out his hand.

"Thanks, I'll be okay." She puffed out an annoyed sigh and gave Red an angry glare snatching her small backpack before striding out of the room, leaving the men in the room to stare at her departing back. Not one of them was envying the two men that followed her out.

As soon as they reached the alley Red grasped her forearm firmly. The rebellion she had felt a few minutes earlier fading and a nervous trepidation starting to take its place. Dembe opened the car door and she slid inside, glancing up at him to try and determine if he also was angry with her. If the tight line his mouth was drawn into was any indication then the answer was yes. She sunk into the soft leather of the seat bracing herself for the lecture that she knew was soon to follow.

As hard as she fought it, Red still had the power to totally disarm her and right now she just felt too exhausted to deal with him. A bone tired weariness as a result of her sleepless nights combined with the physical punishment she had been putting her body through left her feeling far to emotional. What she would give to simply rest her head on his shoulder and cry like a child. She took a deep breath and began the task of shoring up her weakened backbone.

Red entered the other side of the car and gently closed the door. She would have preferred he slammed it. In a moment of sudden enlightenment, she decided that it just might be wise to keep her mouth shut. Discretion being the better part of valor and all that nonsense. Turning her head, chin tilted upward she stared out the car window, effectively trying to ignore both men.

She truly hated the discord that had fallen between them and she could admit, if only to herself, that she was the cause. Repeatedly Red had  
tried to get her to open up and talk about Tom. Repeatedly she had shut him down. Her lack of survival instincts when dealing with her personal life  
had taught her that it was not in her best interest to rely or depend on anyone. Wasn't that was how she found herself in the mess her life was  
right now? Depend on your husband, trust your husband - and just look where that had gotten her. There wasn't a damn thing wrong with a woman  
depending on just herself.

She spared him a quick glance before turning her head to look back, pretending interest in scenery that was to dark to see. As much as she  
fought it, she still knew that it would only take one movement on her part all would be forgiven by him. She could lean into to him and he would wrap  
his arm around her and pull her close. She could imagine the light butterfly kiss he would place on the top of her head. She sighed, the  
sound interrupting the heavy silence in the car. She could let him lead her out of the storm she continued to wage. She fought the urge to do just  
that, rest her weary head on his chest and just let him pull her close. She would be safe in his embrace.

Once she thought she had been safe in the embrace of her husband. The familiar emotions of betrayal and anger at her own naivety rolled over her,  
the past had proven that she had no reason to trust her judgment of Red. A small niggling voice inside her reminded her that Red had never lied to  
her, that he had laid his life on the line for her several times. Another voice inside scoffed as the images of Tom Keen flashed in her mind,  
tormenting her with remembrance of the blind trust she had once looked at him with.

The drive to her brownstone was completed in silence and Liz was just relaxing enough to hope that the confrontation she had anticipated wouldn't  
happen. She was wrong.

"Elizabeth." Red's use of her full name was not a good sign.

She waited silently as Dembe exited the car and stood beside her door, arms folded, effectively blocking any escape she thought she might have been  
able to make. Reluctantly she shifted her eyes to Red and inhaled, holding her breath. She would not allow him to intimidate her.

"Your behavior tonight is simply unacceptable. I have tried to be patient with you, but I simply will not ignore this death wish you seem to have  
taken upon yourself." He stated firmly, as if his spoken words were now law.

"It was a gym, Red..." She started to defend herself.

"A gym? Is that what you call that dump? Hardly." The sarcasm thick. "But let's move past that and let me ask you something else." His voice became a deadly growl. "Just how did you arrive at this so called gym?"

She looked away from him and focused on the headrest in front of her. "I took a cab."

"Elizabeth do not lie to me." The controlled rage in his words sent a shiver down her spine.

Her stomach muscles tightened, screw it, she was in for it no matter what she told him, she might as well just stick with the truth.

"All right, I ran to the damn place. Are you satisfied now?" Her voice rising, the tiredness beginning to vanish as an all too familiar anger started boiling up.

"You ran nine miles, at night, into the worse crime area DC has to offer. Do you have any idea how ludicrous that is? And let's not forget that fact  
we still don't know who your husband was working for and what danger you still may be in from him." Red clipped the words out, his voice remaining  
low which only served to highlight just how he was struggling to maintain his control.

Liz straightened her back and turned towards him. She could feel her face growing flushed and hot and her temper rising. Taking her finger she jammed  
it into his chest and lifting her chin she met his angry gaze. "Let me tell you something right now Red - You're not my father, you're not my husband  
and you're not my boss. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do." She fired back at him, unwilling to back down and unable to acknowledge that  
deep down she knew he was right, but she wasn't going to be beat up or bullied by anyone. Period!

The raw tension in the car intensified and two sets of angry eyes clashed until Red broke the silence. He leaned towards her until their noses were almost touching and she could smell the aroma of scotch on his breath and the scent of his cologne.

"Understand this Elizabeth, if you ever, ever pull a stunt like this again, your life as you know it will never be the same. I will have you chipped!  
I will have my security attached permanently to your hip! You won't be able to breathe without me knowing about. Do I make myself clear?" Any  
pretense he thought he could maintain at civility gone as his voice rose with each sentence until he was shouting the words out at her.

Liz watched with sudden fear as she found herself trapped with a man that was barley containing his rage at her. She had never seen him so close to  
losing total control. She shrank back into the side of the door as his hand reached toward her face and she couldn't help but reflexively cower  
into the corner. Absently she noted that his hand was trembling as his fingers suddenly stroked the bruise that was starting to appear on her face from her fight at the gym.

"This behavior ends here and now Elizabeth. Do I make myself clear?" His voice now lowered, the words slow and measured. Abruptly he nodded once at her before dropping his hand and turning away, effectively dismissing her.

Liz exhaled and quickly made her retreat, as she stepped out of the car Dembe grasped her arm and shut the door. Keeping his grip firmly on her he walked her to her front door.

"Sister! Have you lost your mind?" The bodyguard asked his voice tight.

Still shaken from Red's threat she frowned, angry at being made to feel like a disobedient child, refusing to admit just how much Red had  
intimidated her. She was an adult, a federal agent for heaven's sake. A fact that everyone she knew seemed to conveniently forget. "Look Dembe,  
you know I appreciate your concern..."

"Sister, you had no business being there." Dembe interrupted, his brown eyes displaying the concern he felt. "Why did you not come to me or to Raymond if you felt the need to improve your fighting skills?"

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I need to do this on my own, my own way."

"You need to be very cautious and not anger him any further." Dembe warned. He gently squeezed her elbow until she finally turned and looked into his eyes. She nodded her understanding. He gave her a brief smile before releasing her. Striding back to the car, he gave her one last look of warning before she entered the house.

Dembe found Red's eyes in the rear view mirror. "Tell Jacob and the team that if anyone loses her again it will mean more than their job." He  
instructed his bodyguard.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi Everyone!

This next chapter is I guess what is called a transitional chapter. Beware, the rating to this story will probably be changing soon. Hint, hint! Thanks to everyone for the lovely reviews, favorites and follows - all are greatly appreciated!

Oh, I don't own anything to do with The Blacklist, however I have played the lottery so that may change!

Chapter 5 Kaboom!

"She's a loose cannon Harold." Reds voice was overly neutral, displaying none of the concern that currently consumed him.

"I disagree, Agent Keen has conducted herself admirably since the incident with her husband. If anything she has become far more aggressive and effective than what she was prior." Cooper leaned back in his chair his fingers drumming on his desk as he watched his early morning visitor casually pace his office.

Red stopped in front of the generic landscape painting on the wall. "Harold, this is dreadful, simply dreadful" He turned away from the offensive artwork. Resting his hands on the desk he leaned forward, locking his gaze onto the Assistant Directors eyes. "She is a wire stretched to its breaking point and when that wire snaps, it will take everyone with it. Have you reviewed the surveillance footage from last night?"

"No, not yet. Since you were waiting on my doorstep first thing." His response resigned and slightly sarcastic.

"Well then I suggest you do so and then do something about it. What, I'll leave to your adequate hands." Red placed his fedora back on, his attitude displaying none of the cold fury he was currently feeling over 'Miss To Cocky For Her Own Good Elizabeth Keen'.

Harold sighed, already he was feeling a headache coming on.

The video _was_ slightly damaging. Keen had disregarded Resslers order to stand down, instead she had launched a full tackle on the suspect, knocking him to the ground and disarming him with a speed that in Harold's opinion was really quite impressive. Unfortunately, it had taken two other agents to pull Keen off the suspect. Under normal circumstance he would have reprimanded her for her not obeying Ressler while congratulating her on the score. The last few months had done a lot to improve her skills as an agent.

That being said, Cooper wasn't about to cross Reddington.

xxxx

Liz banged her desk drawer shut, kicking it for good measure when it started to slide back open. "Sonofabitch, try to do your job and what thanks do I get, a two week "leave" translate to suspension!"

She was furious with Cooper and Ressler who had backed him up. She may have lost a little control last night, but in this line of business that wasn't unusual. Pumped up adrenalin was hard to pull back on and it wasn't as if she had actually hurt the damn suspect - much.

Ressler walked into their office, closing the door behind him. "Look Liz, I know you're unhappy, but taking a little time off may be just what you need to get grounded."

"Humph, when did you become such a kiss ass Donald? I've seen you do much worse." She glared at him, blue eyes narrowed.

Ressler, even from across the room could feel the anger radiating from her. "Liz..." His voice trailed off, struggling to find the right words that wouldn't trigger yet another outburst from her.

She had changed in the last few months. Become tougher, more confident in her physical capabilities, but she also had become reckless. He had covered for her several times before last night's incident, but he hadn't been able to cover for this one.

Somehow Cooper had decided to review what should have been routine, uninteresting surveillance and had decided to take a hard line with her. He was fairly certain Reds' leaving earlier that morning had something to do with that. He wasn't about to share that speculation with his partner.

"What Donald? " She shot back, grabbing her gym bag and pushing past him to the door.

"Uhh, nothing Liz. Just try to chill out, will you? It you need anything or just want to talk or have coffee..."

"I'll see you in two weeks." She said, her words sharp, frustration burning inside.

She quickly left the confines of their office and made her way to the womans rest room. Quickly she stripped out of her work clothes, refusing to look at her reflection in the mirror. She knew what she would see, a body that had lost twenty-five pounds in the last three months. A body that was tight, muscular and fit.

She pulled on a black pair of Lycra pants the fabric molding to her skin and a sleeveless black under amour shirt. She quickly tied her running shoes and pulled her hair back with a clip.

Exiting the ladies room and banging the door behind, her mind still racing with anger over the unfairness of Coopers decision. Two weeks, a two week suspension! A big black mark on her record. The only saving grace was that Red hadn't been involved. It was going to be difficult enough trying to find a good enough explanation on why she wasn't working for two weeks. Thank goodness he still off on business for now, she would have a slight reprieve.

Her stomach did a soft flip, and her chest tightened. It wouldn't do to get started on thinking about Red. There was an uncomfortable attraction to him that was slowly growing in her. One she simply couldn't afford to think about and even less - to indulge in.

She stepped out of the elevator and into the basement parking lot. Unlocking her car she tossed the gym bag in the back seat and clipped her keys to her waist. She would pick her car up later, when she wasn't so furious with Cooper. Taking several deep calming breaths she began to stretch and lunge for a few minutes, warming up.

Putting her ear buds on she looped to the song she ran to and strapped her phone to her arm. Liz waited until the first few stances of the beautiful piano introduction of Eminem's "Lose Yourself" finished. The guitar started and then the words and she was off, her rhythm slow and deliberate as she made her way out of the area and into the nearby abandoned industrial park that lined the river.

Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity  
To seize everything you ever wanted. one moment  
Would you capture it or just let it slip?

The words of the song had become her mantra. Her pace even she focused her eyes on the ground in front of her, anger fueling her footsteps. She had reached her saturation point. She was tired of everyone else trying to control her life. Treating her as if she wasn't capable of making a decision without having to clear it with someone. Red, Ressler, Cooper. None of them would treat a man like this, but she was fair game.

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow  
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime

Her pace quickened as she jogged past the empty warehouses towards the path that followed the river. She ran this course frequently and welcomed the seclusion it offered, ignoring the no trespassing signs she continued on, her pace picking up speed. Her breathing became steady and her mind began to clear. Nothing matter at that moment except the beat of the music in her ears and the slapping of her feet on the ground.

Over and over the song played, her mind emptied of all thought, just the beat of music and rhythmic rapping. The earthy roughness of the words somehow a soothing balm for her emotions. The song was brutal, the lyrics crude. Yet the music called to her like a lullaby, reaching and tapping into the anger that she struggled to control.

Time and distance disappeared as she lost herself in the steady pounding of her feet, the heavy focus of her breathing as she inhaled and exhaled cleanly. Her body grew damp with perspiration and she knew it was time to work her way home.

An unexpected dip in the abandoned path had her losing her balance for a moment until she quickly recovered. The motion caused her hand to swipe her keys off her waistband and fly off. She slowed her pace before turning back to search for them.

Not finding them on the path, she cautiously climbed down the steep embankment and into the untrimmed grass that bordered the river. Kneeling down she began brushing back the tall weeds as she searched. The glint of metal in the sunlight caught her eye and she crawled towards it, her hands finding the missing keys.

Cautiously she started to climb back up the embankment when she heard footsteps. Stopping, she glanced up at the path just in time to see a pair of pink breast cancer trainers jogging pass.

xxxxxxx

Yes, there it was!

Two small silver cylinder discs no larger than watch batteries. One stuck to the top of the kitchen door jam and the other on edge of the door. When the door was closed, the two would touch, when the door opened the contact would be broken. Each time she opened her door whoever had placed the sensor would know when she was leaving or arriving. She was certain she would find the same setup on her front door.

As soon as had seen those damn sneakers earlier, she knew that Red had people following her. And if he had people following her then he had to have the house under surveillance. She didn't doubt that it was 100% Red's doing. She recalled his warning after he had removed her from the gym last month. The man was out of control and it was really time for her to teach him a lesson.

Dressed in casual black jeans and top, Liz got out of the cab and walked into the post office, retrieving her car she made her way to the bank. Smiling and chatting with the older woman that stood in line, her eyes casually scanning the sidewalk. Exiting the bank she drove to one of the large box hardware stores and pushed a shopping cart through the lawn and garden section. She took her time, reading the names and characteristics of several tomato plants before finally selecting a few. From there, she moved to flowers, examining flats and filling her cart, a calm smile on her face as she scanned the area. Yep, there he was. The man was same as the one she had spotted at the bank and had followed the cab.

She made her way back to the house and unloaded the contents of her shopping in the back yard. There was only a small patch of grass between the house and the garage. They had seldom parked the car in the garage, preferring to use the street. She opened the door and stepped in, the garage held a multitude of things, mostly overflow, the endless supply of never knowing where to store something. Making her way across the room she opened the large garage door that faced the alley, her eyes lighting up at the large painter's canvas protectively covering the contents beneath.

Finding several large planters she pulled them out into the yard. Let whoever it was that was watching her think that she was doing nothing more than planting flowers. She wasn't certain how closely she was being watched so she made certain to keep her movements casual as she planted her flowers. Her gaze continually searching for any activity in the alley that would indicate her being watched.

It was after 2 am when she finally made her move. She dressed quickly into tight leather pants and a white tank top before slipping on the matching black leather jacket and pulling on boots. The items had been stored in the attic, remnants from her high school days. Grabbing her duffle bag, she slung it over her shoulder and made her way to the kitchen in darkness. Tossing her cell phone on the counter she paused at the kitchen door and took a deep calming breath.

If she didn't do this correctly, then she would literally only have a few minutes until Reds people showed up.

Penlight stuck in her mouth, she pulled a sharp thin file out from her back pocket. Slowly she slid the file into the crack between the door and the jam. Sliding it slowly till it bumped the cylinders, pressing down she worked the file underneath the cylinder that was attached to the door. Using the file to keep the two cylinders connected she cautiously slipped through the doorway. She couldn't help the small laugh that escaped when she had the door safely closed.

Without making a sound she made her way to the garage and breathed a sigh of relief. Placing the duffle on the floor, she slowly pulled back the tarp and couldn't help the grin as she gazed down at Tom Keens pride and joy.

His Harley Davidson motorcycle. The bike that he had custom painted, chromed and modified.

His pride. His joy.

It was hers now! Sometimes you just had to love paybacks!

While there was no denying the bike might be a tad too big for her, there was also no denying that she would be able to handle it. She had been riding ATV's and dirt bikes since grade school. Slinging the duffle bag over her shoulder she cautiously popped the bike out of gear and began pushing it. It wouldn't do to start the bike up this close to the house. Pushing it out the already open garage door she walked it to the end of the alley, continuing to cross the street and into the next alley way. It wasn't until she reached the end of that alley that she finally un-hooked the helmet, straddled the bike and turned it on.

It roared like a lion! There was no denying the sound of Harley.

Xxxxx

It had been six days, six glorious days of freedom. Six glorious days of no Red, no Cooper, no work, no pressure. She felt better than she had felt in years. Just her and the bike. She had traveled through Maryland, stopping to spend a few nights in Chesapeake before heading to Pennsylvania and then upstate New York. Mom and pop hotels were always scattered along the way and paying cash protected her anonymity.

She felt free, perhaps for the first time in her life, totally free. Free from prying eyes, free from the heavy weight that hung on her. She hadn't realized until her escape how she had lived her life based on the expectations of others. It was empowering to come to the conclusion that she was no longer accountable to anyone or anything. Sam was gone, her marriage over, the choices she now made were her choices, not colored by the expectations of anyone else. There was no one left for her to try and please. She recognized how her inherent desire to please others had held her captive for so long.

Sam had left her a nice nest egg, she could stay with the FBI or she could leave. She could continue on with Red, or not. Whatever the decision, it would be hers and hers alone to make.

She was back in Pennsylvania now, on the interstate climbing through the Allegheny Mountains and the views were spectacular. The mountains tumbled into deep valleys and scenery was all lush greenery and vibrant blue skies. At some point she knew she would need to start to make her way back to DC, but she was in no hurry.

There would be wrath to face once she returned but the wildness inside of her had broken free and she knew she would be able to handle whatever waited for her.

The first thing she planned to do when she returned was put the brownstone up for sale. She had been immature and silly to continue to stay there. She wasn't proving anything to herself by refusing to leave.

Red had been right about that.

Red had been right about a lot of things.

She couldn't help the small smile that appeared. She had missed him. Who would have thought? But she had. She missed his smile, the way his eyebrow would raise when he teased her. She missed the way he smelled.

She missed his touch.

The sound of a siren behind her washed over her and she glanced down at her speedometer. Damn! Glancing back she saw a police cruiser closing in behind her. Sighing Liz spotted a picnic rest stop and pulled over.

The state trooper looked like all state troopers had a tendency to look. Former military, big build, sunglasses and cropped hair. Pulling off her helmet she shook her hair free, letting it cascade down her shoulders. She saw the officer pause in surprise, not expecting a woman to be driving the big bike. He took in the mass of hair, blue eyes and long legs and his stoic frown disappeared.

"Hello officer." Her voice low and sexy sweet, she would need all the help she could get to pull out of this one.

"Miss, are you aware of the speed limit?" Her reflection in the officers sunglasses staring back at her.

"Yes, I do apologize. These mountains are just beautiful and I wasn't paying attention." With any luck at all she would get off with a warning.

"You were exceeding the posted speed limit by 25 miles. I clocked you at 90 miles an hour."

Crap, crap and crap. She hadn't realized she was going that fast.

"License, insurance and registration please." He asked, almost reluctantly.

Liz handed over the requested information and un-zippered her leather jacket, shrugging it off, revealing the tight tank top beneath. A cool breeze swept over her shoulders and she relished the feel of it. Now that the bike wasn't moving the jacket was stifling.

The officer returned to his car and Lizzie kicked at the gravel with the toe of her boot. Long slow minutes passed and she was still waiting for the officer to reappear from his car when she suddenly heard the sound of several sirens coming closer. When three additional police cruisers pulled into the picnic area, she knew the game was up.

Liz watched with narrowed eyes as the first officer started speaking with the new arrivals before walking towards her.

"Agent Keen.' His voice was slightly apologetic.

Yep, the game was up. She didn't answer him, just looked at him with her best scowl.

Clearing his throat he continued. "Agent Keen, I'm going to have to ask you to please follow me to station."

"Now why would I want to do that office?" She couldn't help herself from saying.

"There's been an alert set out for you. You're needed in DC as soon as possible. I don't have any other information."

"Its fine officer, I'll just start to make my way back down." Damn it to hell! She would far rather appear under her own steam and not like a runaway child.

"Ah, no. Instructions are clear, you are to personally escorted to our location and someone will be arriving to get you." He glanced away for a moment before looking back at her. "I'm sorry, if you resist, I have been told to arrest you."

Well double crap. Placing her jacket and helmet back on she glared at him. "Let's get going then."

Feet propped up on a nearby chair, Lizzie rocked back, precariously balancing her chair on two legs. She had been escorted to the police department and then ensconced in their outdoor lunch area. Several officers had been out in the last two hours baring gifts of water and candy bars and if she hadn't been so annoyed she would have found it amusing.

Instead, she wasn't amused and things were about to get dicey. She wondered if Red had been the cause of all this drama or if it had been Cooper. She would find out soon enough.

She heard the helicopter before she saw it, suddenly cresting the mountain top before landing in the pad. Shielding her eyes, she watched as Ressler jumped out and ran towards her.

"Geez Liz - what the hell were you thinking just disappearing like that?" Donald greeted her.

"I didn't think I needed to let anyone know where I was since I was on suspension." She told him, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Do you really think that excuse is going to fly? Good luck with that." Donald said disbelief obvious in his voice. "We need to get you back to DC now."

"What's the rush?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Other than a missing Federal agent?" Don said sarcastically. "Number 23, Vova Panchyk is back in the country and Red's information has him attending a private party in approximately five hours. Red refuses to give us all the details. He told Cooper that if you weren't there, then we could forget about capturing the man."

Donald was doing his best to lay a guilt trip on her. Liz sighed and shrugged it off.

"Cooper will send someone to get your bike."

Liz glanced at it and gave Ressler a smirk. "That won't be necessary." She watched as the Police Lieutenant walked towards them. Pulling the keys out of her pocket she tossed them to him.

"I'll mail you the title when I get back to DC. Keep the bike as a donation to the Police Fund." She couldn't help the satisfied grin at the thought of where Tom's bike had ended up.


	6. Chapter 6

Seriously, you guys are awesome! I was so concerned that the last chapter was a dud, but your fantastic reviews were so reassuring! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Chapter Six – Paybacks and all of that...

"...furthermore Agent Keen, your blatant disregard for company policy is simply unacceptable. You are aware that you are required to keep the agency apprised of your whereabouts at all times regardless of your status." Cooper towered over her, a mannerism used to further intimidate those being questioned - FBI Basic Training 101, she suppressed the desire to roll her eyes at him.

Liz did her best to keep her expression respectful as she continued to listen to Cooper reprimanding her as he had done for the last fifteen minutes. It was no less than she expected but her defiant getaway had been worth it and she had no regrets.

"...and to make matters even worse, you left with no explanation to Reddington. Do you realize the position you put the team in by doing that?" His voice once more rising with anger. "If you think that by changing your voice mail on your phone to inform people that you were on vacation even began to placate him, you're sadly mistaken. The man was out of control and threatened no less than half the team with torture and death if you weren't located." Cooper stopped to both inhale and glare at her and Liz used the momentary silence to jump in.

"Sir, I apologize for any inconvenience I caused. I didn't realize my suspension still required me to report my whereabouts." A bit of a lie, alright it was a big lie, but she didn't hesitate, her ass was getting sore from the chewing out.

Cooper stared at her and she had the grace to look down at her hands, fingers nervously tracing the scar on her palm. Fortunately he didn't call her out on the lie.

"You need to get out to the war room, get prepped and dressed and ready for the take down. As for Reddington, you're on your own dealing with him and it's nothing more than what you deserve." He watched as she quickly got up and made her way to the doorway, escape only seconds away and just a few footsteps.

"Oh Keen", she stopped at the door but didn't turn around. "Report to Medical on Monday, you're getting a tracking chip." Coopers voice sounding smug at the announcement.

She thought about arguing with her boss about the chip, but then thought better of it. Worst case scenario she could always pull a Red and dig it out. A sigh escaped, "Yes Sir," before escaping from his office. Liz made her way to the war room, stopping short just in time to see Red and Dembe heading towards the elevator.

Handsome in a beautifully cut silver grey suit, Lizzie couldn't help but inhale sharply. As if knowing she was behind him Red turned and their eyes met for a brief moment before he quickly turned away and continue to the elevator, leaving her feeling slightly abandoned.

xxxxxxx

Elizabeth pushed herself further into the corner of the bar. The nightclub was in full swing. Music vibrating against the walls, the base an irritating thump-thump. Drinks were flowing and bodies grinding. All of the noise and confusion just further irritated her already annoyed frame of mind that she been in ever since Red had snubbed her earlier.

She released a deep sigh and took another sip of her chardonnay. It wasn't bad as chardonnays went, certainly nothing compared to what Red might offer. One thing she could give the man credit for was his tutelage in fine wines. She would give it another few minutes and then she was leaving. She grimaced at the thought. Perhaps the club was a better choice than her house, she had absolutely no desire to return to that cold reminder of her previous life. She stood firm in her decision to sell the place as soon as she had an opportunity.

She wondered if Red would act the gentleman about it or be a smug jerk. Taking into consideration the way he had completely ignored her since her return earlier in the day, she was going to guess the latter. She couldn't help the nervous churn of her stomach, he was drawing out their confrontation so he could maintain the upper hand, keeping control of the element of surprise and of the situation. Typical Red. She had to admit that just because she knew what he was doing, it wasn't lessening the nervousness she felt.

"Hey Liz! This is party or have you forgotten?" She forced a smile at Charlie, a co-worker that was part of the communications group and the rest of the team that had gone out onto the dance floor.

"I think you're having enough fun for all of us." She shouted over the music, raising her wine glass to him.

The job had been a quick success, with the group capturing Vova Panchyk without any difficulty. Panchyk had the distinct privilege of double crossing Red several years back to the tune of several million dollars, that had been mistake number one, mistake number two had been the fact that several innocent bystanders were killed in the swindle. So of course Red had his revenge and the FBI had successfully shut down a major supplier of weapons to the Ukraine. Liz had played her reluctant role successfully as one of the very elegant women employed at the gentleman's establishment located across the street. After distracting the mark and leading him into one of the "private" rooms the club offered, the team had moved in and made the arrest quickly.

To celebrate, Red, in his typical over the top behavior invited everyone to the nightclub for drinks on him. While she had tried to gracefully decline, she had found herself ganged up on and pulled along. So here she sat, Red having disappeared immediately after they arrived still not acknowledging her. The only reason she still remained was that Ressler was suppose to be her transportation.

"I'll take you home, don't worry about, we won't stay long." He had told her, grasping her arm and urging her along. That was over two hours ago. Searching the nightclub she finally spotted Ressler across the room sitting at the bar. She shook her head in annoyance. If looks were anything to go by, Ressler was in no condition to be driving anyone. Meera was on the dance floor looking quite cozy with a man that had approached their table earlier. Aram had situated himself at a table with three other women and he looked as if it would take a nuclear explosion to move him. She didn't feel comfortable enough with the other members of the team to beg a ride home, which meant one thing. Find a cab. Could the evening get any worse?

"Excuse me lovely lady." The voice slurred.

She was wrong, it had just gotten worse. She raised her eyes up to the man that was leering down at her, gazing at her exposed cleavage her "Gentleman's Club" dress offered.

"Go away, not interested." She told him coldly, straightening her back. The last thing she felt like dealing with was the drunken advances of the man standing before her. Her eyes narrowed in disgust as he lost his balance and started to fall onto the table, his hands knocking over several of the drinks.

"Ah come on sweetie. You look like you're ready to do some rocking and rolling. One little dance." The man stumbled over his words, thrusting his pelvis in her face. He grabbed at his crotch before straightening up and brushing his hands over his suit. Placing both hands on the table in front of her, his leaned in close to her, his face ready to fall onto her chest.

Liz spotted tall, dark and handsome taking possession of the bar stool beside Ressler. Somehow she didn't think it was coincidence that Dembe had showed back up after leaving with Red earlier.

"Back off." Liz snarled at him. At one time, not so long ago she would have been intimidated by the stranger, but not anymore. Grabbing his arm with one hand and his fingers with her other she twisted hard. The man yelped and jerked back. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dembe placing his bottle of beer on the counter and standing up ready to come to her aid.

"Geez, what a bitch. What 'd go and do that for?" Her wanna be man of the hour rubbed his wrist before turning away and staggering off.

Liz's eyes met Dembes and she shook her head in amusement. Dembe stared at her a moment longer and then sat back down at the bar. She twirled the remaining wine in her glass and slowly sipped at it, wanting to give Dembe at least time to finish his beer. Finally standing, she walked to the dance floor and caught Meera's eye. She gave her a brief wave and nodded towards the bar, waiting as Meera followed her motion and spotted Dembe. Nodding in understanding she waved before turning her attention back to her dance partner.

Liz made her way to the bar, ignoring the admiring stares of the men around her. Stiletto heels and a strapless sapphire silk dress that fit like a second skin seemed to have an almost hypnotizing effect on the opposite sex. The bar fell silent as chests puffed out and stomachs pulled in.

"Dembe." She greeted him, placing her hand on his arm, truly happy at seeing him. She had missed him while on her agency imposed "sabbatical".

"Sister, you look beautiful and it is good to see you home safely. We have been worried." He patted her hand, his smile lighting up his soulful chocolate eyes.

At least with Dembe there was no judgment, just true friendship. Liz relaxed and smiled before turning her attention to Ressler.

"Hey Liz." Ressler slurred, his head propped on his arm, several empty shot glasses around him. Her eyes took in his appearance and a wave of sympathy flooded her. Donald was definitely drowning his sorrows tonight. Losing Audrey had devastated her partner. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she smiled at him. "Are you ready to call it a night?"

"Nope, gonna stay and close the place out." He replied, closing his eyes as his head started to slump towards the bar.

"Yes, I see that." She glanced at Dembe. "Do you mind giving us a ride?"

"Not at all, it is why I am here." He placed his arm around Resslers shoulders and pulled him upright easily, his strength hidden beneath his suit coat.

"Time to go home big guy." Liz told Donald, placing her arm around his waist as the two of them led him out of the nightclub.

The ride to Donald's was done in friendly silence. Liz in the front seat as Donald sprawled out on the back. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she could only hope that he knew how to hold his liqueur. Red would not be happy if there was an "accident" in the back of his Mercedes. She chuckled at the thought.

"What is so amusing?" Dembe asked, taking his eyes off the road and glancing at her.

"Just thinking how pissed off Red would be if Donald got sick in the back of his car." Liz responded with a smile.

A low chuckle escaped from Dembe. "He would most certainly be aggravated." Their eyes met as they both burst out laughing at the idea.

"Can you imagine? That would be the final straw." She looked over at the man and back again to stare out the window. "I take it he's not speaking with me?" She ventured cautiously. She didn't want to put Dembe in the middle of her issues with Red and truth be told, Dembe's loyalty, as much as he had befriended her, belonged to Red.

"Ah Elizabeth, he worries about you. And to be honest, you have given him good cause." Dembe said softly chiding.

"Hmmm, I suppose I have." She answered thoughtfully, wondering how the situation between the two of them would play out. Something had changed in the way she thought of him while she had been gone. Something that she was still trying to work through and define.

Between the two of them they managed to get Donald situated in his town home. Donald's slurred mummers of how they were such good friends and how he loved them both, were met with amused glances and rolled eyes. Liz left to Dembe the delicate task of getting Donald stripped down and into bed. Securing the townhouse, they ventured back to the car.

"Dembe, I do think you missed my turn." She said a few minutes later as the bodyguard pulled into mainstream traffic.

"Raymond has asked that I take you to Fredrick's." Came the soft reply.

She sighed deeply, it was late and it had been a long day. She really didn't feel up to dealing with Red just now. Tomorrow would be better, when she had a good night's sleep and was ready to face him. A small shiver ran though her, it wasn't going to be pleasant and she needed to have her wits about her. Though she couldn't deny just how much she had missed him.

"Is he waiting for me there, Dembe?" She asked nervously.

"Yes."

She really hated to put Dembe on the spot, but it couldn't be avoided. "Dembe, please take me to my place. I'll see Red tomorrow." She tried to keep her voice firm and certain.

"I don't think that is a wise decision." He looked over at her with a frown.

"Well it won't be my first bad decision, now will it?" She tried teasing him.

"It would be better if you went to Fredrick's." Dembe insisted.

The air between them grew tense and Liz looked at him closely. "Are you refusing to take me home?" Her voice more curious than anything else.

"No, no. If that is what you wish for, then that is where I will take you. I just warn you again that it is not a good decision." Dembe now keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road.

"Warning understood." The remainder of the drive was done in silence, their easy companionship disappearing as a heavy tension took its place.

Dembe pulled up in front of the brownstone, refusing to look at Liz, his thumbs tapping on the steering wheel.

"Thanks Dembe, I'll see you tomorrow." She tried to inject a note of cheeriness in her voice, after all he was only following Reds orders. Stepping out of the car and walking around it she closed the few steps to the brownstone before stopping short as she looked up at the house she and Tom had once shared.

FOR SALE!

Her mouth fell open as she stared in disbelief at the sign.

Nothing, there was nothing that Red could have done that would have shocked her more.

He had put her house up for sale.

He had fucking put her house up for sale!

His payback for her leaving was to put her house up for sale!

"I'm sorry Sister, I tried to dissuade him. He refused to listen to reason." Dembe words were soft and sympathetic as he came up behind her. Liz could only turn and stare at him in shock.

What type of person did that? What type of person had the colossal nerve to actually do something like that?

The actual...actual...BALLS... to do such a thing?

Disbelief was the only emotion she could currently identify. Her eyes looked up at the windows taking note of how they were now bare of curtains. He had moved her out! And all because she had taken a road trip and he wanted to prove who had the most power. She simply couldn't get her arms around the knowledge. He was the most hard headed, obstinate man she had ever, ever had the misfortune to come across!

"How was he even able to do something like this?" She finally asked finding her words.

"With Raymond, anything is possible. You should understand that by now." Dembe told her apologetically. Taking her by the arm he tried to lead her back to the car.

"But my things? Where are my things?" She stuttered, staring up once more at the house.

"Everything is safe. Your furniture is in storage and your personal items have been moved to Fredrick's." Dembe explained patiently.

The drive back to Fredrick's was completed in silence. Liz couldn't stop her mind from racing let alone comprehend the fact that Red had actually put her house up for sale. It took her several minutes to realize that the car was stopped and they were parked in front of Fredrick's.

"Would you prefer I come in with you to face Raymond?" His concerned voice asked.

A heavy sigh escaped and she shook her head 'no'. There were some things that she just needed to handle on her own.

Entering the house, she slipped off her coat and placed her handbag on the side table. Taking a deep breath she steeled her nerves and walked towards the library. Her eyes immediately found Red sitting at the end of the sofa. In her spot, well in all fairness it was his spot first. He had shed his suit coat and tie, his sleeves rolled up, the fine hairs on his arms golden in the firelight. His strong hands holding a tumbler of scotch, no moonshine tonight.

She inhaled and tried to relax. Leaning against the door jam of the library she stared at him. Her original disbelief at what he had done was starting to ebb away to be replaced with...with what? With anger? No, she didn't feel that. With relief? Amusement? Perhaps. After all, hadn't she already decided to get rid of the house. Hadn't she already realized that he had been right, that remaining there had been holding her back, depressing her, dragging her down.

His self confident arrogance did jab at her. He was a piece of work, but as annoyed as she was with him, she couldn't help but admire him. When she had first met him she had thought he was just number 4 on the list. One man. And then just one man with a couple of associates. Luli, Dembe and Grey. But instead, he was so much more than that.

Why hadn't Copper and the rest FBI realized that? Ressler certainly should have known, he had tracked him for years. Yet none of them realized that Raymond Reddington was a corporation unto himself. Even she had no idea of the number of people he employed, but it had to be considerable. She thought back to the site she had visited with him, the men and woman working at the warehouse. The technology at their disposal as they worked to recreated the shredded papers retrieved from the post office. Mr. Kaplin, the swat team that had appeared almost instantly after Anslo had kidnapped him. The security that had followed Tom and even her.

No, being number 4 on the list was nothing more than a joke to him and while he claimed he did all this for an immunity deal, she couldn't help but think that he could care less about immunity. Red had been coming into the States and working here undetected for years. He certainly wasn't afraid of capture. No, he had started this game as a way to make amends for the choices he had made in his life. To make amends to her for some undefinable reason that she had yet to discover.

When had she come to terms with what and who Raymond Reddington was? It had been a slow discovery she realized. One finalized on the highways of Pennsylvania.

Her stomach muscles clenched and she could feel a tightness staring to curl in her belly and spread. She should be frightened, very frightened of the man that sat staring at her with his angry green eyes. She knew perfectly well he was furious with her since he hadn't spoken to her since her return. She knew he was biding his time. Waiting for the opportunity to make his move, express his anger at her disappearance.

If he was waiting for her to lash out at him, then he was wrong. Lashing out was the last thing entering her mind just now, her eyes drinking in his appearance. She couldn't help but trace her tongue over her lips gently. How one man was capable of eliciting so many emotions from her was beyond her comprehension.

"Well - haven't you just been the busy little bee." She finally said softly from her position in the door way.

If he was taken back by her comment, his expression didn't give him away. "I warned you fair and square. It's not my fault that you didn't believe me." He said casually, not glancing at her, continuing to stare into the golden flames of the fire. If he was surprised by her lack of anger and spite, he never showed it.

"You don't think you're a tad bit hypocritical? After all, you're the one that can captivate all with your dramatic tales of life being lived on the edge." She mocked gently.

"One can live their life however they choose when they aren't responsible for the happiness and well being of others." Reds words were soft and Lizzie had to lean forward to hear him.

"And just who's happiness and well being do you think I'm responsible for?" She couldn't help but ask, though she was very certain she already knew the answer to that question.

"Mine. So you really left me with no alternative."

His words had a lost edge to them that Lizzie didn't think she had ever quite heard before. Red stood and began to pace the room and she could feel the tension and anger inside of him building up.

"Between your reckless disregard for your safety by either trying to get mugged, raped, robbed, murdered or smeared all over a highway, you left me no other choice. I gave you fair warning that the consequences of your actions would be severe if you continued to put yourself in jeopardy." His eyes met hers from across the room and he raised his glass of scotch to her in a parody of a cheers salute.

"That you did." What she would give, just once to get the upper hand on this man. To wipe that smug, infuriating arrogant look off his face. Dare she? Did she really have the courage to see if she could push him over the edge? To taunt him to the point of no return?

She tilted her head and they stared at each other. Liz contemplating, Red determined. She truly must have lost a part of her mind somewhere along the highways she had traveled the last week. Her mind made up, she let her glance drop down to his feet and then slowly work their way back up, taking in every inch of him until she reached his eyes and heard his breath catch in his throat.

"I'm not discussing this any further with you tonight Red." Her voice firm and defiant.

She watched with amusement as his cheek twitched and he practically hissed at her. Her eyes locked onto his, refusing to blink or back down.

"I'm going to bed." She pulled away from door jam, eyes half closed as she squared her chin and took final control of her life. "Care to join me?"

Yep, there it was, she had just knocked the invincible Raymond Reddington off his throne. She smirked at his stunned expression and then turned back into the hallway and started up the stairs, her hand trailing the banister, hips gently swaying. The house crackled with electricity and the heady scent of lilac swirled around her.


	7. Chapter 7

Well – Christmas came early to my house this year in the form of all the lovely reviews and favorites and follows that were left for my last chapter. You are awesome! Thank you so much for taking the time to leave love and support!

As promised, this story has now moved to M, so be warned! There is no advancing of the plot, just good old fashion lust and love!

Chapter 7 Free Falling

Liz didn't wait to see how long it took for Red to recover from her invitation as she made her way up the stairs. Her heart was pounding like the tribal beating of drums and for a moment she thought it would actually fly from her chest. Her boldness was quickly ebbing away to be replaced with a sinking feeling of dread. Would he stay or would he leave?

What had she done? What had she put in place with her crazy challenge? Had she lost her mind to dare to dare the infamous Red Reddington? An anxiety attack was looming over her and she focused on keeping her breathing even and steady and the threads of panic started to ease to be replaced with a barrage of "what if's".

What if he rejected her?

What if she had misread his intentions these last months?

What if the lingering gazes were misread? That the careful touches when they were together meant nothing or the way he would say her name when it was just the two of them was a figment of her imagination?

What if she had been wrong?

Then she heard the glass shatter

She hadn't been wrong.

Her confidence reasserted itself. This hadn't been the rash, impulsive move of a naive girl. She knew what she wanted, understood that she had just changed the course of the game. Except it wasn't a game, it was real. This was real. The pounding of her heart, the weakness of her legs, the flush on her skin. All of it was real and all of it was because she was finally able to reach out for what she wanted and needed.

Suddenly she felt strong and powerful and beautiful.

And wild. Especially wild...

She couldn't help the smile that brighten her face.

She switched on the small brass nightlight beside the bed and her room was suddenly bathed in a soft muted glow. Holding her hands out in front of her she observed their light trembling, a tell tale sign of the nerves and excitement rushing through her. She moved to the window and waited, looking out on the garden that was hidden by the darkness. She closed her eyes and her breathing calmed and a mona lisa smile appeared on her face.

Finally she heard him climbing the staircase, his steps slow on the treads - and she exhaled.

Sensed as he paused at the doorway before finally entering the room - and her hands stopped their trembling.

Felt his breath on the back of her neck - and felt a fire starting to burn.

"If you were hoping to distract me from my anger, you succeeded. What a dilemma you've created." He growled softly, his words brushing against her skin. She closed her eyes luxuriating in the sensation and felt her stomach tighten in reflex.

"That wasn't my intent.' Or perhaps it was, she really wasn't certain. It didn't matter, she wasn't frightened of his anger. Wary maybe, but she never feared for her safety with him. He had come out of the box for her and in the end that really said everything there was to say.

"What's your intent Lizzie? A one night stand? A here today, gone tomorrow attempt to test the boundaries of your new found freedom?"

The words were a challenge to her, a steel edge in his voice even though it was soft, daring her to confess just what her offer would mean to them in the light of day. Was this nothing more than the casual invitation for two adults looking to sate their mutual needs, a beneficial agreement to be certain, but no more than just that? Or was this something else entirely?

She looked at his reflection in the window, unwilling to lay the extent of her emotions bare to him when she hadn't even fully defined them herself. She wasn't certain what answer he wanted from her. Had she truly not thought pass this night?

It would appear so.

"Does it matter?" She asked with more bravo than she was actually feeling.

"Yes...yes Lizzie, I think it just might." His words mocking her gently, as if he was enjoying her current discomfort, his eyes shrewdly assessing the reflection that mirrored them.

She turned from the window and faced him, her eyes unable to meet his. She focused instead on the golden hairs on his chest, on the three tight curls that peeked between the open buttons of his shirt. Hesitant, she reached up with her fingers, catching one curl with her nail and pulling gently, amazed as it quickly sprung back to its neat circle. She knew he was waiting for her to reply and he would continue to wait all night if it suited him.

A small sigh escaped and then she sealed her fate. "Then no. This isn't a one night stand." She had no idea where tomorrow would take them, but she knew she was going to find out. She trusted herself and surprisingly enough, she found she trusted Red.

"You never cease to amaze and delight me Elizabeth." His words sending a shiver of awareness through her and she could see the slight indication of his body relaxing with her response.

The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile and she nodded, her decision had been made days ago even though she was only just now admitting it. Her hands reached to clasp the strong muscles of his forearms as she leaned in and placed her mouth against his for that first heady kiss, proving to them both the certainty of her choice.

His lips were soft and warm, tasting of scotch and... and danger... and all things Red. Boldly her tongue swept against his and she heard his soft growl as his hands moved to her backside and he pulled her against his groin, keeping her firmly in place.

Her fingers reached around his neck and brushed the short hairs on the back of his head. How long had she wanted to do just that? Feel the soft pricks of his hair brushing against her skin, the sensation adding to the arousal she felt growing. Red abruptly pulled away ending their kiss, his breathing ragged as his hands moved to her shoulders and he took a step backwards, away from her.

She looked up at him confused, the twitch in his jaw apparent. What had happened? What had she done? She felt bereft at the sudden loss of contact.

"There won't be any do over's in the morning." He warned darkly. "I won't let you pretend that none of this happened."

No do over's, no regrets, no going back. Could she live with that?

Yes.

She had known that Red would have his own conditions on what the change in their relationship would bring. Yet still he seemed hesitant, uncertain that she had fully comprehended what he was saying.

"Everything will change Elizabeth." He growled a final warning, his voice thick with desire and need.

"Everything already has." Was the best she could manage to say, her heart pounding as her blood rushed through her body with each heart beat.

His eyes locked onto hers, searching for whatever truth he could find in them. Finally he nodded at her, his hands on her hips he turned her back towards the window. She felt his warm lips find the base of her neck and her breath caught in her throat as he began to kiss each soft hollow of her spine until he reached the top of her dress.

Warm fingers pulled the zipper down slowly past her waist and hips and she couldn't control the shiver of anticipation as he slid his hands inside the dress and onto her flushed skin. His fingers reached around her, skimming her breasts through her strapless bra as his thumbs found her nipples, brushing them into aroused peaks. Her dress fell to the floor in heap of molten blue. She could only lean her head back against his chest as her breathing began to quicken and his mouth began a slow deadly assault on her neck.

His hands moved downwards, caressing her belly for a moment before sliding further to the heat between her legs, fingers brushing the silk of her panties, the dampness of her desire apparent with his touch. This time she couldn't hold in the groan of pleasure as he pressed her against the thickness of his arousal and he pushed himself against her.

She was free falling and felt no fear.

Liz met his push, her soft moans filling the room. The only reason she was still standing was because of Reds arm wrapped around her waist and the hand that was cupped between her legs that was driving her to insanity. His fingers slipped inside of her panties and stroked her and a shocked gasp escaped from her lips. Her legs grew weak as she started to feel the first fluttering of release approaching her. As if he knew she tittered on the edge he found the hidden bundle of nerves and began moving his fingers in slow, confident circles, the pressure firm and certain.

With a sharp pinch on the nerves he had been playing with he sent her over the edge and her moans turned into low cries of relief. Red continued to gently rub her through the satin of her panties as she rode out her orgasm and slowly came back to reality.

When she was finally able to breathe again and her legs able to support her she turned and wrapped her arms around his chest, pulling him down for a deep hard kiss. His tongue pushing into her mouth and swirling, tasting, their teeth grating and clashing. She pulled away her fingers pushing at his vest and her deft fingers began the task of unbuttoning his shirt, licking her lips with anticipation.

She nudged her head into his neck and caught his skin with her teeth, gently biting him and then flicking a soothing lick on the mark she left and a fresh thrill of desire ignited when his hands clamped down on her wrists, stopping her from the task she was so intent on. She stilled and his hand captured her chin and he forced her to meet his eyes. She blinked slowly at him, frustrated that he had pulled her away from her task.

"If you think I'm difficult now Lizzie, you have no idea of how much more so I will be once we are together." His voice was a low rumble of warning, sending a shiver of want straight to her center. She wondered how that was even possible, when just minutes before he had sent her over the edge.

"Fair warning?" She whispered, her fingers clenching the edges of his shirt.

"Fair warning." He nodded once, raising his eyebrows, his green eyes several shades darker than their normal hue as he held her still.

"Understood." And she did. She had no doubt that Red would become unleashed when it came to her, he would become even more possessive and demanding and he would drive her to insanity and then the want and the desire she felt for him was pushing his warning away.

She placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth and then moved to finish her task of pushing his shirt off his shoulders and back. Spreading her hands she placed them beneath his rib cage and gently brushed them upwards, palms caressing the hairs on his chest and his nipples before she wrapped them around his neck again and he bent down to give her another deep kiss.

His fingers easily released her bra and Liz felt that first flush of skin against skin as her breasts pushed against him. Without breaking their kiss, his fingers hooked onto the sides of her panties, pushing the scrap of satin and lace down, past her hips and thighs till they fell onto the floor and joined her dress.

Eager she reached down and felt the hard length of him still confined behind the fabric of his trousers. He groaned as her hand stroked his length and she felt his erection twitch and strain searching for freedom. Her hands struggled to release his belt and open his trousers, impatient even more so now that he had found her breast and was drawing it into his mouth.

Her hand slid between his hips and trousers and her nails raked his skin as she pushed his trousers and boxers down. Finally free, his erection pushed into her belly like a spear. He was hard and hot and she brushed against it, forcing its tip upwards and flat against her belly.

Red pulled away from her breast, his breathing short and shallow. His hands brushed her hair back before resting on her cheeks, "You are the most beautiful things there is Lizzie." His voice a soft guttural growl.

Suddenly she was desperate! Desperate to have him, to taste him, to make him forget any other woman he had ever been with. Jealousy and need flared, she wanted nothing more than for Raymond Reddington to never think of another but her. Where this sudden possessiveness came from she didn't know, but it was there, consuming her, pushing her on.

Their lips clashed in a kiss that quickly became hard and desperate and she pushed him backwards until he hit the bed and sat down on its edge, pulling her onto his lap. She straddled him, her thighs on either side of his waist and the kiss continued. Finally they broke away, breath ragged and heavy. She slid off of him, kneeling on the floor in front of him, her hands stroking his erection, feeling it pulse beneath her fingers. There was more of him than Tom, more of him than she had imagined. Her mouth watered with want.

She needed all of him, to touch him, savor him, to know him as intimately as possible. None of her experiences with any man had ever made her feel like this. Sex with Tom had been satisfying but she had never cared to push their intimacy to its fullest. Rewarding but not demanding. With Red, she didn't want to push him to the edge, but over it. She needed him to lose his famous self control just from her touch alone.

Her hands rested on his thighs and her lips circled his tip as she tasted him. Red arched his back, his hands finding her hair and holding her still. She ignored his silent command to go no further as she opened her mouth wider and pushed down on the thick length of his cock.

A ragged sound from deep inside his chest erupted as she began to slowly taste him. Her teeth gently grated on his skin as she moved her head up and down, pushing him deeper into her throat. Her mouth tasting musk and a flavor that was undeniably Red. He was delicious. Then suddenly his thick length was touching the back of her throat and her fingers were wrapped tightly around the base of his cock. She gripped her thighs together tightly as the heat flared even hotter between her legs. She had no doubt that she could come just by bringing him to satisfaction with her mouth.

"Enough!" He pushed her head back and his hands quickly captured her wrists and trapped them tightly above her head. From her kneeling position she looked up at him and saw his eyes glazed with desire. He pulled her up and twisted her around before pushing her onto the bed. His mouth found her breast, and he drew her nipple in deeply and suckled before moving to the other. The night stilled as her breathless moans filled the room and she pushed her pelvis against him, feeling the ridge of hardness that waited.

A low chuckled escaped from Red as he slid his mouth away from her breast and latch onto the sunken skin of her stomach. He ignored the writhing underneath him and the softly moaned "please" that escaped from her lips as he dragged her still captured hands to her side.

"Really Lizzie? You expect mercy from me after what you just did?" Pushing her legs apart he knelt between them and his hands were suddenly under her hips pulling her upward and bringing him even closer to the wetness that was pooling between her thighs.

She struggled to find purchase on him, to pull him upwards and away from the heat. She wanted him inside of her! Now! She needed to feel him! The type of intimacy that Red was demanding had never been a request or requirement in her marriage bed, either as the giver or the receiver.

She tried tugging him upwards, pulling him away from his destination, struggling to close her legs. His hands clamped onto her thighs, keeping them still and he chuckled at her feeble attempts against his determination.

"Ahhhh,' her moan harsh, head thrown back and her back arched as his mouth clamped over the delicate skin and he began a slow erotic assault on her. He kept a firm grasp on her legs, forcing them to stay open and spread as he began to run his tongue over the sensitized skin, tasting her for the first time.

Her scream caught in her throat as her hands gripped the back of his head and the heat threatened to burst free, inflaming them both. A final deep thrust of his tongue and then his lips captured the delicate bundle of nerves and she was pushed over the edge.

He barely gave her time to recover before he was leaning over her, pushing her deeper into the bed. She felt the hard, hot length of him nudging against her center. Her fingers alternated between digging into his ass and pulling him closer.

Their mouths clashed and he groaned as he started to slowly press into her. She wrapped her legs around his calves and pressed upward, encouraging him to move. With a deep moan he pushed further into the warmth that was waiting for him and with a shudder and breathless moan finally seated himself deep within her.

For a long moment there was no movement or sound from either of them. He paused, waiting for her body to accept the girth and length of him and when her inner muscles started to clench around him, he knew she was ready.

"Please Red," she pleaded.

He paused for a moment more, catching his breath, holding his weight above her with his arms. Desperate hands pulled him down, flush against her breasts. She needed to feel all of him on her skin. Their mouths meet in a wild desperate kiss as he slowly pulled out of her and then back in again, starting a rhythmic dance of pleasure. A dance that he had no intention of ending any time soon.

xxxx

Lizzie rested her sore muscles, her body spent from the hours spent with Red. Her fingers absently brushed the back of his head as he held her tightly in his arms. He slept quietly his cheek on her breast an occasional soft kiss placed on her skin, telling her that even in sleep he was aware of her.

Had she ever thought about it before, which she hadn't... she would have expected Red to be gentle considerate lover. The logic behind that was in the truth of how he treated her. With an old school type of elegance that reminded her of chivalry and nights in armor and a maidens silk handkerchief

She was wrong. Red and sex together was overwhelming. HE was overwhelming. There wasn't a part of her body that hadn't been kissed, laved or nibbled on. He inhaled her, as he laid on top of her rubbing his skin against hers as if marking her as his. He demanded her screams of pleasure, the clawing of her nails against his back. He pushed every fiber of her being and pulled at her with the strength of his desire.

He was magnificent.

What on God's green earth had she done?

xxxxxxxx

Slinking out the back door now...


End file.
